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CHOICE WOMS OF COOFEli. 


REVISED AND CORRECTED SERIES. 


WITH 

NEW INTRODUCTIONS, NOTES, ETC. » 


VOL. XIX. 

JACK TIEK. 













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JACK TIER; 


THE F L 0 R1D A REEF. 


J.*^FENIMORE COOPER. 


Ay, now I am in Arden; the more fool 
I; when I was at home I was in a better place; but 
Travellers must bo content. 

As Yoir Like It. 


* - » 


COMPLETE IN ONE VOLUME. 

WITH THE LATEST REVISION AND CORRECTIONS OF THE AUTHOR. 


NEW YORK: 

STRINGER & TOWNSEND. 

1 85 6 . 




Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1856, by 
STRINGER & TOWNSEND, 

In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States for the Southern 

District of New York. 


R. C. Valentine, Stereotyper. 


J. F. Teow, Printer, 



PREFACE. 


This work has already appeared in Graham’s Mag¬ 
azine, under the title of “ Kose Budd.” The change 
of name is solely the act of the author, and arises 
from a conviction that the appellation given in this 
publication is more appropriate than the one laid 
aside. The necessity of writing to a name, instead 
of getting it from the incidents of the book itself, 
has been the cause of this departure from the ordinary 
rules. 

When this book was commenced, it was generally 
supposed that the Mexican war would end, after a few 
months of hostilities. Such was never the opinion of 
the writer. He has ever looked forward to a pro¬ 
tracted struggle; and, now that Congress has begun 
to interfere, sees as little probability of its termination, 
as on the day it commenced. Whence honorable gen¬ 
tlemen have derived their notions of the constitution, 
when they advance the doctrine that Congress is an 
American Aulic council, empowered to encumber the 
movements of armies, and, as old Blucher expressed 



G 


PREFACE. 


it in reference to the diplomacy of Europe, “ to spoil 
with the pen the work achieved by the sword,” it is 
difficult to say more than this, that they do not get 
them from the constitution itself. It has generally 
been supposed that the present executive was created 
in order to avoid the veiy evils of a distracted and 
divided council, which this new construction has a 
direct tendency to revive. But a presidential election 
has ever proved, and probably will ever prove stronger 
than any written fundamental law. 

We have had occasion to refer often to Mexico in 
these pages. It has been our aim to do so in a kind 
spirit; for, while we have never doubted that the fac¬ 
tions which have possessed themselves of the govern¬ 
ment in that country have done us great wi’ong, wrong 
that would have justified a much earlier apj)eal to 
arms, w^ehave always regarded the class of Mexicans who 
alone can properly be termed the “ people,” as mild, 
amiable, and disposed to be on friendly terms with us. 
Providence, however, directs all to the completion of 
its own wise ends. If the crust which has so long 
encircled that nation, inclosing it in bigotry and igno¬ 
rance, shall now be irretrievably broken, letting in 
light, even Mexico herself may have cause hereafter to 
rejoice in her present disasters. It was in this way 
that Italy has been, in a manner, regenerated; the 
conquests of the French carrying in tlieir train the 
means and agencies which have, at length, aroused that 


PREFACE. 


7 


glorious portion of the earth to some of its ancient 
spirit. Mexico, in certain senses, is the Italy of this 
continent; and war, however ruthless and much to be 
deplored, may yet confer on her the inestimable bless¬ 
ings of real liberty, and a religion released from 
'‘^feux d)artifice^'^ as well as all other artifices. 

A word on the facts of our legend. The attentive 
observer of men and things has many occasions to 
note the manner in which ordinary lookers on deceive 
themselves, as well as others. The species of treason 
portrayed in these pages is no uncommon occurrence ; 
and it will often be found that the traitor is the loudest 
in his protestations of patriotism. It is a pretty safe 
rule to suspect the man of hypocrisy who makes a 
parade of his religion, and the partisan of corruption 
and selfishness, who is clamorous about the rights of 
the people. Captain Spike was altogether above the 
first vice; though fairly on a level, as respects the 
second, with divers patriots who live by their deity. 








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JACK TIER 


CHAPTER I. 


P)08. Whj", that’s my spirit! 

But was not this nigh shore ? 

Ariel. Close by, my master. 

Pros. But are they, Ariel, safe ? 

Ariel. Not a hair perished. 

Tempest. 


“ D’ye here there, Mr. Mulford ?” called out Captain Stephen 
Spike, of the half-rigged, brigantine Swash, or Molly Swash, as 
was her registered name, to his mate. “ We shall be dropping 
out as soon as the tide makes, and I intend to get through the 
Gate, at least, on the next flood. Waiting for a wind in port is 
lubberly seamanship, for he that wants one should go outside 
and look for it.” 

This call was uttered from a wharf of the renowned city of 
Manhattan, to one who was in the trunk-cabin of a clipper¬ 
looking craft, of the name mentioned, and on the deck of which 
not a soul was visible. Nor w^as the wharf, though one of those 
wooden piers that line the arm of the sea that is called the East 
River, such a spot as ordinarily presents itself to the mind of 
the reader, oi‘ listener, when an allusion is made to a wharf of 
that town which it is the fashion of the times to call the 
Commercial Emporium of America—as if there might very 
well be an emporium of any other character. The wharf in 
question had not a single vessel of any sort lying at, or indeed 
near it, with the exception of the Molly Swash. As it actually 
stood on the eastern side of the town, it is scarcely necessary 



10 


JACK TIER. 


to say that such a wharf could only be found high up, and at 
a considerable distance from the usual haunts of commerce. 
The brig lay more than a mile above the Hook (Corlaer’s, of 
course, is meant—not Sandy Hook), and quite near to the old 
Almshouse—far above the shipyards, in fact. It was a soli¬ 
tary place for a vessel, in the midst of a crowd. The grum 
top-chain voice of Captain Spike had nothing there to mingle 
with, or interrupt its harsh tones, and it instantly brought on 
deck Harry Mulford, the mate in question, apparently eager to 
receive his orders. 

“ Did you hail. Captain Spike ?” called out the mate, a tight, 
well-grown, straight-built, handsome sailor-lad, of two or three- 
and-twenty—one full of health, strength, and manliness. 

“ Hail! If you call straining a man’s throat until he’s 
hoarse, hailing, I believe I did. I flatter myself there is not a 
man north of Hatteras that can make himself heard further in a 
gale of wind than a certain gentleman who is to be found within 
a foot of the spot where I stand. Yet, sir, I’ve been hailing the 
Swash these five minutes, and thankful am I to find some one 
at last who is on board to answer me.” 

“ What are your orders. Captain Spike ?” 

“ To see all clear for a start as soon as the flood makes. I 
shall go through the Gate on the next young flood, and I hope 
you’ll have all the hands aboard in time. I see two or three of 
them up at that Dutch beer-house, this moment, and can tell 
’em, in plain language, if they come here with their beer aboard 
tliem^ they’ll have to go ashore again.” 

“ You have an uncommonly sober crew. Captain Spike,” an¬ 
swered the young man, with great calmness. “ During the 
whole time I have been with them, I have not seen a man 
among them the least in the wind.” 

“ Well, I hope it will turn out that I’ve an uncommonly 
sober mate in the bargain. Drunkenness I abominate, Mr. 
Mulford, and I can tell you, short metre, that I will not 
stand it.” 


JACK TIER. 


11 


“ May I inquire if you ever saw me, the least in the world, 
under the influence of liquor. Captain Spike ?” demanded the 
mate, rather than asked, with a very fixed meaning in his 
manner. 

“ I keep no log-book of trifles, Mr. Mulford, and cannot say. 
No man is the worse for bowsing out his jib when oft’ duty, 
though a drunkard’s a thing I despise. Well, well—remember, 
sir, that the Molly Swash casts off on the young flood, and that 
Rose Budd and the good lady, her aunt, take passage in her, 
this v’y’ge.” 

“ Is it possible that you have persuaded them into that, at 
last ?” exclaimed the handsome mate. 

“ Persuaded ! It takes no great persuasion, sir, to get the la¬ 
dies to try their luck in that brig. Lady Washington herself, if 
she was alive and disposed to a sea-v’y’ge, might be glad of the 
chance. We’ve a ladies’ cabin, you know, and it’s suitable that 
it should have some one to occupy it. Old Mrs. Budd is a sen¬ 
sible woman, and takes time by the forelock. Rose is ailin’— 
pulmonary they call it, I believe, and her aunt wishes to try the 
sea for her constitution—” 

“ Rose Budd has no more of a pulmonary constitution than I 
have myself,” interrupted the mate. 

“ Well, that’s as people fancy. You must know, Mr. Mulford, 
they’ve got all sorts of diseases now-a-days, and all sorts of cures 
for ’em. One sort of a cure for consumption is what they tarm 
the Hyder-Ally—” 

“ I think you must mean hydropathy, sir—” 

“ Well, it’s something of the sort, no matter what; but cold 
water is at the bottom of it, and they do say it’s a good remedy. 
Now, Rose’s aunt thinks if cold water is what is wanted, there 
is no place where it can be so plenty as out on the ocean. Sea- 
air is good, too, and by taking a v’y’ge her niece will get both 
requisites together, and cheap.” 

“ Does Ptose Budd think herself consumptive, Captain Spike ?” 
asked Mulford, with interest. 


12 


J’A C K TIER. 


“ Not she—you know it will never do to alarm a pulmonary, 
so Mrs. Budd has held her tongue carefully on the subject before 
the young woman. Rose fancies that her o,uut is out of sorts, 
and that the v’y’ge is tried on her account; but the aunt, the 
cunning thing, knows all about it.” 

Mulford almost nauseated the expression of his commander’s 
countenance while Spike uttered the last words. At no time 
was that countenance very inviting, the features being coarse 
and vulgar, while the color of the entire face was of an ambigu¬ 
ous red, in which liquor and the seasons would seem to be 
blended in very equal quantities. Such a countenance, lighted 
up by a gleam of successful management, not to say with hopes 
and wishes that it will hardly do to dwell on, could not but be re¬ 
volting to a youth of Harry Mulford’s generous feelings, and 
most of all to one who entertained the sentiments which he was 
quite conscious of entertaining for Rose Budd. The young man 
made no reply, but turned his face towards the water, in order 
to conceal the expression of disgust that he was sensible must 
be strongly depicted on it. 

The river, as the well-known arm of the sea in which the 
Swash was lying is erroneously termed, was just at that mo¬ 
ment unusually clear of craft, and not a sail, larger than that 
of a boat, was to be seen between the end of Blackwell’s Island 
and Corlaer’s Hook, a distance of about a league. This stag¬ 
nation in the movement of the port, at that particular point, 
was owing to the state of wind and tide. Of the first, there 
was little more than a southerly air, while the last was about 
two-thirds ebb. Nearly every thing that was expected on that 
tide, coastwise, and by the way of the Sound, had already ar¬ 
rived, and nothing could go eastward, with that light breeze 
and under canvas, until the flood made. Of course it w^as differ¬ 
ent with the steamers, who were paddling about like so many 
ducks, steering in all directions, though mostly crossing and re¬ 
crossing at the ferries. Just as ^lulford turned away from his 
commander, how^ever, a large vessel of that class shoved her 


THE FLORIDA REEF. 


13 


bows into the view, doubling the Hook, and going eastward. 
The first glance at this vessel sufficed to drive even Rose Budd 
momentarily out of the minds of both master and mate, and to 
give a new current to their thoughts. Spike had been on the 
point of walking up the wharf, but he now so far changed his 
purpose as.actually to jump on board of the brig and spring up 
alongside of his mate, on the taftrail, in order to get a better 
look at the steamer. Mulford, who loathed so much in his com¬ 
mander, was actually glad of this. Spike’s rare merit as a seaman 
forming a sort of attraction that held him, as it might be against 
his own will, bound to his service. 

“ What will they do next, Harry ?” exclaimed the master, his 
manner and voice actually humanized, in air and sound at least, 
by this unexpected view of something new in his calling. “ AVhat 
will they do next ?” ^ 

“ I see no wheels, sir, nor any movement in the Avater astern, 
as if she were a propeller,” returned the young man. 

“ She’s an out-of-the-way sort of a hussy ! She’s a man-of- 
war, too—one of Uncle Sam’s new efforts.” 

“ That can hardly be, sir. Uncle Sam has but three steam¬ 
ers of any size or force, now the Missouri is burned; and yonder 
is one of them lying at the Navy-Yard, while another is, or was 
lately, laid up at Boston. The third is in the Gulf. This must 
be an entirely new vessel, if she belong to Uncle Sam.” 

“ New ! She’s as neAV as a governor, and they tell me they’ve 
got so now that they choose five or six of them^ up at Albany, 
every fall. That craft is sea-going, Mr. Mulford, as any one can 
tell at a glance. She’s none of your passenger-hoys.” 

“ That’s plain enough, sir—and she’s armed. Perhaps she’s 
English, and they’ve brought her here into this open spot to 
try some new machinery. Ay, ay, she’s about to set her ensign to 
the navy men at the yard, and Ave shall see to Avhom she be¬ 
longs.” 

A long, low, expressive whistle from Spike succeeded this re¬ 
mark, the colors of the steamer going up to the end of a gaff on 


J4 


JACK tier; or, 


the sternmost of her schooner-rigged masts, just asMulford ceased 
speaking. There was just air enough, aided by the steamer’s 
motion, to open the bunting, and let the spectators see the de¬ 
sign. There were the stars and stripes, as usual, but the last 
ran perpendicularly, instead of in a horizontal direction. 

“ Revenue, by George !” exclaimed the master, as soon as his 
breath was exhausted in the whistle. “ Who would have be¬ 
lieved they could screw themselves up to doing such a thing in 
that bloody service ?” 

“ I now remember to have heard that Uncle Sam was build¬ 
ing some large steamers for the revenue service, and, if I mistake 
not, with some new invention to get along with, that is neither 
wheel nor propeller. This must be one of these new craft, brought 
out here, into open water, just to try her, sir.” 

“ You’re right, sir, you’re right. As to the natur’ of the beast, 
you see her buntin’, and no honest man can want more. If 
there’s any thing I do hate, it is that flag, with its unnat’ral 
stripes, up and down, instead of running in the true old way. 
I have heard a lawyer say, that the revenue flag of this country 
is unconstitutional, and that a vessel carrying it on the high 
seas might be sent inTor piracy.” 

Although Harry Mulford was neither Puftendorf nor Grotius, 
he had too much common sense, and too little prejudice in favor 
of even his own vocation, to swallow such a theory, had fifty 
Cherry-street lawyers sworn to its justice. A smile crossed his 
fine, firm-looking mouth, and something very like a reflection 
of that smile, if smiles can be reflected in one’s own counte¬ 
nance, gleamed in his fine, large, dark eye. 

“ It would be somewhat singular. Captain Spike,” he said, 
“ if a vessel belonging to any nation should be seized as a 
pirate. The fact that she is national in character would clear 
her.” 

“ Then let her carry a national flag, and be d—d to her,” 
answered Spike fiercely. “ I can show you law for what I sav, 
Mr. Mulford. The American flag has its stripes fore and aft by 


THE FLORIDA REEF. 


. 15 


law, and this chap carries his stripes parpendic’lar. If I com¬ 
manded a cruiser, and fell in with one of these up and down 
gentry, blast me if I wouldn’t just send him into port, and try 
the question in the old almshouse.” 

Mulford probably did not think it worth while to argue the 
point any further, understanding the dogmatism and stolidity 
of his commander too well to deem it necessary. He preferred 
to turn to the consideration of the qualities of the steamer in 
sight, a subject on which, as seamen, they might better sym¬ 
pathize. 

“ That’s a droll-looking revenue cutter, after all. Captain 
Spike,” he said ; “ a craft better fitted to go in a fleet, as a look- 
•out vessel, than to chase a smuggler in-shore.” 

“ And no goer in the bargain ! I do not see how she gets 
along, for she keeps all snug under water; but unless she can 
travel faster than she does just now, the Molly Swash would 
soon lend her the Mother Carey’s chickens of her own wake to 
amuse her.” 

“ She has the tide against her, just here, sir; no doubt she 
would do better in still water.” 

Spike muttered something between his teeth, and jumped 
down on deck, seemingly dismissing the subject of the revenue 
entirely from his mind. His old, coarse, authoritative manner 
returned, and he again spoke to his mate about Rose Biidd, her 
aunt, the “ ladies’ cabin,” the “ young flood,” and “ casting oft',” 
as soon as the last made. Mulford listened respectfully, though 
with a manifest distaste for the instructions he was receiving. 
He knew his man, and a feeling of dark distrust came over him, 
as he listened to his orders concerning the famous accommoda¬ 
tions he intended to give to RoseBudd, and that “capital old lady, 
her aunthis opinion of “ the immense deal of good sea-air 
and a v’y’age would do Rose,” and how “ comfortable they both 
would be on board the Molly Swash.” 

“ I honor and respect Mrs. Budd, as my captain’s lady, you 
see, Mr. Mulford, and intend to treat hei- ac^cordin’ly. She 


16 . 


JACK tier; or, 


knows it—and Rose knows it—and they both declare they’d 
rather sail with me^ since sail they must, than with any other 
shipmaster out of America.” 

“ You sailed once with Captain Budd yourself,.! think I have 
heard you say, sir ?” 

“ The old fellow brought me up. I was with him from my 
tenth to my twentieth year, and then broke adrift to see fashions. 
We all do that, you know, Mr. Mulford, when we are young 
and ambitious, and my turn came as well as another’s.” 

“ Captain Budd must have been a good deal older than his 
wife, sir, if you sailed with him when a boy,” Mulford observed, 
a little drily. 

“ Yes; I own to forty-eight, though no one would think me- 
more than five or six-and-thirty, to look at me. There was a 
great difference between old Dick Budd and his wife, as you 
say, he being about fifty, when he married, and she less than 
twenty. Fifty is a good age for matrimony, in a man, Mulford; 
as is twenty in a young woman.” 

“ Rose Budd is not yet nineteen, I have heard her say,” re¬ 
turned the mate, with emphasis. 

“ Youngish, I will own, but that’s a fault a liberal-minded 
man can overlook. Every day, too, will lessen it. Well, look 
to the cabins, and see all clear for a start. Josh will be down 
presently with a cart-load of stores, and you’ll take ’em aboard 
without delay.” 

As Spike uttered this order, his foot was on the plank-sheer of the 
bulwarks, in the act of passing to the wharf again. On reaching 
the shore, he turned and looked intently at the revenue steamer, 
and his lips moved, as if he were secretly uttering maledictions 
on her. We say maledictions, as the expression of his fierce ill- 
favored countenance too plainly showed that they could not be 
blessings. As for Mulford, there was still something on his 
mind, and he followed to the gangway ladder and ascended it, 
waiting for a moment when the mind of his commander might 
be less occupied to speak. The opportunity soon occurred. 


THE FLORIDA REEF. 1*7 

Spike having satisfied himself with the second look at the 
steamer. 

“ I hope you don’t mean to sail again without a second mate, 
Captain Spike ?” he said. 

“ I do, though, I can tell you. I hate Dickies—they are al¬ 
ways in the way, and the captain has to keep just as much of a 
watch with one as without one.” 

“ That will depend on his quality. You and I have both 
been Dickies in our time, sir; and my time was not long ago.” 

“ Ay, ay—I know all about it—but you didn’t stick to it 
long enough to get spoiled. I would have no man aboard the 
Swash who made more than two v’y’ges as second officer. As I 
want no spies aboard my craft, I’ll try it once more without a 
Dickie.” 

Saying this in a sufficiently positive manner, Captain Stephen 
Spike rolled up the wharf, much as a ship goes ofi* before the 
wind, now inclining to the right, and then again to the left. 
The gait of the man would have proclaimed him a sea-dog, to 
any one acquainted with that animal, as far as he' could be seen. 
The short squab figure, the arms bent nearly at right angles at 
the elbow, and working like two fins with each roll of the 
body ; the stumpy, solid legs, with the feet looking in the line 
of his course and kept wide apart, would all have contributed 
to the making up of such an opinion. Accustomed as he was 
to this beautiful sight, Harry Mulford kept his eyes riveted on 
the retiring person of his commander, until it disappeared be¬ 
hind a pile of lumber, waddling always in the direction of the 
more thickly peopled parts of the town. Then he turned and 
gazed at the steamer, which, by this time, had fairly passed the 
brig, and seemed to be actually bound through tire Gate. That 
steamer was certainly a noble-looking craft, but our young 
man fancied she struggled along through the water heavily. 
She might be quick at need, but she did not promise as much 
by her present rate of moving. Still, she was a noble-looking 
craft, and, as Mulford descended to the deck again, he almost 


18 


JACK tier; or, 


regretted he did not belong to her; or, at least, to any thing 
but the Molly Swash. 

Two hours produced a sensible change in and around that 
brigantine. Her people had all come back to duty, and what 
was very remarkable among seafaring folk, sober to a man. 
But, as has been said, Spike was a temperance man, as re¬ 
spects all under his orders at least, if not strictly so in practice 
himself. The crew of the Swash w^as large for a half-rigged 
brig of only two hundred tons, but, as her spars were very 
square, and all her gear as well as her mould seemed construct¬ 
ed for speed, it w^as probable more hands than common were 
necessary to work her with facility and expedition. After all, 
there were not many persons to be enumerated among the 
“ people of the Molly Swash,” as they called themselves; not 
more than a dozen, including those aft, as well as those for¬ 
ward. A peculiar feature of this crew, however, w'as the cir¬ 
cumstance that they were all middle-aged men, with the excep¬ 
tion of the mate, and all thoroughbred sea-dogs. Even Josh, 
the cabin-boy, as he was called, was an old, wrinkled, gray¬ 
headed negro, of near sixty. If the crew wanted a little in the 
elasticity of youth, it possessed the steadiness and experience 
of their time of life, every man appearing to know exactly 
what to do, and when to do it. This, indeed, composed their 
great merit; an advantage that Spike well knew how to ap¬ 
preciate. 

The stores had been brought alongside of the brig in a cart, 
and were already stowed in their places. Josh had binished 
and swept, until the ladies’ cabin could be made no neater. 
This ladies’ cabin was a small apartment beneath a trunk, 
which was, ingeniously enough, separated from the main cabin 
by pantries and double doors. The arrangement was unusual, 
and Spike had several times hinted that there was a history 
connected with that cabin ; though what the history ^vas, Mul- 
fo.rd never could induce him to relate. The latter knew that 
the brig had been used for a forced trade on the Spanish Main, 


THE FLORIDA REEF. 


19 


and had heard something of her deeds in bringing off specie, 
and proscribed persons, at difterent epochs in the revolutions of 
that part of the world, and he had always understood that her 
present commander and owner had sailed in her, as mate, for 
many years before he had risen to his present station. Now, 
all was regular in the way of records, bills of sale, and other 
documents ; Stephen Spike appearing in both the capacities 
just named. The register proved that the brig had been built 
as far back as the last English war, as a private cruiser, but re¬ 
cent and extensive repairs had made her “ better than new,” 
as her owner insisted, and there was no question as to her sea¬ 
worthiness. It is true the insurance offices blew upon her, and 
would have nothing to do with a craft that had seen her two- 
score years and ten ; but this gave none who belonged to her 
any concern, inasmuch as they could scarcely have been under¬ 
written in their trade, let the age of the vessel be what it might. 
It was enough for them that the brig was safe and exceedingly 
fast, insurances never saving the lives of the people, whatever 
else might be their advantages. AYitli Mulford it was an addi¬ 
tional recommendation, that the Swash was usually thought to 
be of uncommonly just proportions. 

By half-past two, P. M., every thing was ready for getting 
the brigantine under way; Her fore-topsail—or fore-ta2^^sail, as 
Spike called it—was loose, the fasts were singled, and a spring 
had been carried to a post in the wharf, that was well forward 
of the starboard bow, and the brig’s head turned to the south¬ 
west, or down the stream, and consequently facing the young 
flood. Nothing seemed to connect the vessel with the land but 
a broad gangway plank, to which Mulford had attached life¬ 
lines, with more care than it is usual to meet with on board 
of vessels employed in short voyages. The men stood about 
the decks with their arms thrust into the bosoms of their shirts, 
and the whole picture was one of silent, and possibly of some¬ 
what uneasy expectation. Nothing was said, however; Mulford 
walking the quarter-deck alone, occasionally looking up the still 


20 


JACK tier; or, 


little tenanted streets of that quarter of the suburbs, as if to 
search for a carriage. As for the revenue-steamer, she had long 
before gone through the southern passage of Blackwell’s, steer¬ 
ing for the Gate. 

“ Dat’s dem, Mr. Mulford,” Josh at length cried, from the 
lookout he had taken in a stern-port, where he could see over 
the low bulwarks of the vessel. “ Yes, dat’s dem, sir. I know 
dat old gray horse dat carries his head so low and sorrowful like, 
as a horse has a right to do dat has to drag a cab about this big 
town. My eye ! what a horse it is, sir J” 

Josh was right, not only as to the gray horse that carried his 
head “ sorrowful like,” but as to the cab and its contents. The 
vehicle was soon on the wharf, and in its door soon appeared 
the short, sturdy figure of Captain Spike, backing out, much as 
a bear descends a tree. On top of the vehicle were several 
light articles of female appliances, in the shape of bandboxes, 
bags, Ac., the trunks having previously arrived in a cart. Well 
might that over-driven gray horse appear sorrowful, and travel 
with a lowered head. The cab, when it gave up its contents, 
discovered a load of no less than four persons besides the driver, 
all of weight, and of dimensions in proportion, with the excep¬ 
tion of the pretty and youthful Rose Budd. Even she was 
plump, and of a well-rounded person; though still light and 
slender. But her aunt was a fair picture of a shipmaster’s 
widow—solid, comfortable, and buxom. Neither was she old, 
nor ugly. On the contrary, her years did not exceed forty; 
and being well preserved, in consequence of never having been 
a mother, she might even have passed for thirty-five. The 
great objection to her appearance was the somewhat indefinite 
character of her shape, which seemed to blend too many of its 
charms into one. The fourth person, in the fare, was Biddy 
Noon, the Irish servant and factotum of Mrs. Budd, who was 
a pock-marked, red-faced, and red-armed single woman, about 
her mistress’s own age and weight, though less stout to the 
eye. 


THE FLORIDA REEF. 


21 


Of Kose we shall not stop to say much here. Her deep-blue 
eye, which was equally spirite'd and gentle, if one can use 
such contradictory terms, seemed alive with interest and curios¬ 
ity, running over the brig, the wharf, the arm of the sea, the 
two islands, and all near her, including the Almshouse, with 
such a devouring rapidity as might be expected in a town-bred 
girl, who was setting out on her travels for the first time. Let 
us be understood: we say towm-bred, because such was the 
fact; for Rose Budd had been both born and educated in Man¬ 
hattan, though we are far from wishing to be understood that 
she was either very well-born, or highly educated. Her station 
in life may be inferred from that of her aunt, and her education 
from her station. Of the two, the last was, perhaps, a trifle the 
highest. 

We have said that the fine blue eye of Rose passed swiftly 
over the various objects near her, as she alighted from the cab, 
and it naturally took in the form of Harry Mulford, as he stood 
in the gangway, offering his arm to aid her aunt and herself in 
passing the brig’s side. A smile of recognition was exchanged 
between the young people, as their eyes met, and the color, which 
formed so bright a charm in Rose’s sweet face, deepened, in a 
way to prove that that color spoke with a tongue and elo¬ 
quence of its own. Nor was Mulford’s cheek mute on the 
occasion, though he helped the hesitating, half-doubting, half¬ 
bold girl along the plank with a steady hand and rigid mus¬ 
cles. As for the aunt, as a captain’s widow, she had not felt it 
necessary to betray any extraordinary emotions in ascending 
the plank, unless, indeed, it might be those of delight on finding 
her foot once more on the deck of a vessel. 

Something of the same feeling governed Biddy, too; for, as 
Mulford civilly extended his hand to her also, she exclaimed— 

“No fear of me, Mr. Mate—I came from Ireland by wather, 
and knows all about ships and brigs, I do. If you could have 
seen the times we had, and the saas we crossed, you’d not think 
it nadeful to say much to the likes iv me.” 


22 


JACK tier; or, 


Spike had tact enough to understand he would be out of his 
element in assisting females along that plank, and he was busy- 
in sending what he called “ the old lady’s dunnage ” on board, 
and in discharging the cabman. As soon as this was done, he 
sprang into the main-channels, and thence, vid. the bulwarks, 
on deck, ordering the plank to be hauled aboard. A solitary 
laborer was paid a quarter to throw off the fasts from the ring¬ 
bolts and posts, and every thing was instantly in motion to cast 
the brig loose. Work went on as if the vessel were in haste, 
and it consequently went on with activity. Spike bestirred 
himself, giving his orders in a way to denote he had been long 
accustomed to exercise authority on the deck of a vessel, and 
knew his calling to its minutiae. The only ostensible difference 
between his deportment to-day and on any ordinary occasion, 
perhaps, was in the circumstance that he now seemed anxious 
to get clear of the wharf, and that in a way which might have 
attracted notice in any suspicious and attentive observer. It is 
possible that such a one was not very distant, and that Spike 
was aware of his presence; for a respectable-looking, well- 
dressed, middle-ifged man had come down one of the adjacent 
streets, to a spot within a hundred yards of the wharf, and stood 
silently watching the movements of the brig, as he leaned 
against a fence. The want of houses in that quarter enabled 
any person to see this stranger from the deck of the Swash, 
but no one on board her seemed to regard him at all, unless it 
might be the master. 

“ Come, bear a hand, my hearty, and toss that bow-fast clear,” 
cried the captain, whose impatience to be off seemed to increase 
as the time to do so approached nearer and nearer. “Off* with 
it at once, and let her go.” 

The man on the wharf threw the turns of the hawser clear 
of the post, and the Swash was released forward. A smaller 
line, for a spring, had been run some distance along the wharves, 
ahead of the vessel, and brought in aft. Her people clapped 
on this, and have way to their craft, which, being comparatively 


THE FLORIDA REEF. 


23 


liglit, was easily moved, and very manageable. As this was 
done, the distant spectator, who had been leaning on the 
fence, moved towards the wharf with a step a little quicker than 
common. Almost at the same instant, a short, stout, sailor-like 
looking little person, waddled down the nearest street, seeming 
to be in somewhat of a hurry, and presently he joined the other 
stranger, and appeared to enter into conversation with him; 
pointing towards the Swash as he did so. All this time, both 
continued to advance towards the wharf. 

In the mean while Spike and his people were not idle. The 
tide did not run very strong near the wharves and in the sort 
of a bight in which the vessel had lain ; but, such as it was, it 
soon took the brig on her inner bow, and began to cast her 
head off shore. The people at the spring pulled away with all 
their force, and got sufficient motion on their vessel to overcome 
the tide, and to give the rudder an influence. The latter was 
put hard a-starboard, and helped to cast the brig’s head to the 
southward. 

Down to this moment, the only sail that was loose on board 
the Swash was the fore-topsail, as mentioned. This still hung 
in the gear, but a hand had been sent aloft to overhaul the 
buntlines and clewlines, and men were also at the sheets. In a 
minute the sail was ready for hoisting. The Swash carried a 
wapper of a fore-and-aft mainsail, and, what is more, it was fit¬ 
ted with a standing gaff, for appearance in port. At sea. Spike 
knew better than to trust to this arrangement; but in fine 
weather, and close in with the land, he found it convenient to 
have this sail haul out and brail like a ship’s spanker. As the 
gaff was now aloft, it was only necessary to let go the brails to 
loosen this broad sheet of canvas, and to clap on the out-hauler, 
to set it. This was probably the reason why the brig was so 
unceremoniously cast into the stream, without showing more of 
her cloth. The jib and flying-jibs, however, did at that moment 
drop beneath their booms, ready for hoisting. 

Such was the state of things as the two strangers came first 


24 


JACK TIER. 


upon the wharf. Spike was on the taffrail, overhauling the 
main-sheet, and Mulford was near him, casting the fore-topsail 
braces from the pins, preparatory to clapping on the hal¬ 
yards. 

“ I say, Mr. Mulford,” asked the captain, “ did you ever see 
either of them chaps afore? These jokers on the wharf, I 
mean.” 

“ Not to my recollection, sir,” answered the mate, looking 
over the taffrail to examine the parties. “ The little one is a 
burster ! The funniest-looking little fat old fellow I’ve seen in 
many a day.” 

“ Ay, ay, them fat little bursters, as you call ’em, are some¬ 
times full of the devil. I don’t like either of the chaps, and am 
right glad we are well cast before they got here.” 

“ I do not think either would be likely to do us much harm. 
Captain Spike.” 

“ There’s no knowing, sir. The biggest fellow looks as if he 
might lug out a silver oar at any moment.” 

“ I believe the silver oar is no longer used, in this country at 
least,” answered Mulford, smiling. “ And if it were, what have 
we to fear from it ? I fancy the brig has paid her reckoning.” 

“ She don’t owe a cent, nor ever shall for twenty-four hours 
after the bill is made out, while I own her. They call me ready- 
money Stephen, round among the ship-chandlers and calkers. 
But I don’t like them chaps; and what I don’t relish I never 
swallow, you know.” 

“ They’ll hardly try to get aboard us, sir; you see we are 
quite clear of the wharf, and the mainsail will take now, if we 
set it.” 

Spike ordered the mate to clap on the outhauler, and spread 
that broad sheet of canvas at once to the little breeze there was. 
This was almost immediately done, when the sail filled, and 
began to be felt on the movement of the vessel. Still, that 
movement was very §low, the wind being so light, and the vis 
inertias, of so large a body remaining to be overcome. The 


JACK TIER. 


25 


brig receded from the wharf, almost in a line at right angles to 
its face, inch by inch, as it might be, dropping slowly up with 
the tide at the same time. Mulford now passed forward to set 
the jibs, and to get the topsail on the craft, leaving Spike on 
the taffrail, keenly eyeing the strangers, who, by this time, had 
got down nearly to the end of the wharf, at the berth so lately 
occupied by the Swash. That the captain was uneasy was evi¬ 
dent enough, that feeling being exhibited in his countenance, 
blended with a malignant ferocity. 

“ Has that brig any pilot ?” asked the larger and better-looking 
of the two strangers. 

“ What’s that to you, friend ?” demanded Spike, in return. 
“ Have you a Hell-Gate branch ?” 

“ I may have one, or I may not. It is not usual for so large 
a craft to run the Gate without a pilot.” 

“ Oh, my gentleman’s below, brushing up his logarithms. We 
shall have him on deck to take his departure before long, when 
I’ll let him know your kind inquiries after his health.” 

The man on the wharf seemed to be -familiar with this sort 
of sea-wit, and he made no answer, but continued that close 
scrutiny of the brig, by turning his eyes in all directions, now 
looking below, and now aloft, which had in truth occasioned 
Spike’s principal cause for uneasiness. 

“ Is not that Captain Stephen Spike, of the brigantine Molly 
Swash ?” called out the little, dumpling-looking person, in a 
cracked, dwarfish sort of a voice, that was admirably adapted 
to his appearance. Our captain fairly started, turned full to¬ 
wards the speaker, regarded him intently for a moment, and 
gulped the words he was about to utter, like one confounded. 
As he gazed, however, at little dumpy, examining his bow-legs, red 
broad cheeks, and coarse snub nose, he seemed to regain his self- 
command, as if satisfied the dead had not really returned to life. 

“ Are you acquainted with the gentleman you have named ?” 
he asked, by way of answer. “ You speak of him like one who 
ought to know him.” 


2 


26 


JACK TIER. 


“ A body is apt to know a shipmate. Stephen Spike and I 
sailed together twenty years since, and I hope to live to sail with 
him again.” 

“ You sail with Stephen Spike ? when and where, may I ask, 
and in what v’y’ge, pray ?” 

“ The last time was twenty years since. Have you forgotten 
little Jack Tier, Captain Spike ?” 

Spike looked astonished, and well he might, for he had sup¬ 
posed Jack to be dead fully fifteen years. Time and hard ser¬ 
vice had greatly altered him, but the general resemblance in 
figure, stature, and waddle, certainly remained. Notwithstanding, 
the Jack Tier that Spike remembered was quite a different 
person from this Jack Tier. That Jack had worn his intensely 
black hair clubbed and curled, whereas this Jack had cut his 
locks into short bristles, which time had turned into an intense 
gray. That Jack was short and thick, but he was flat and 
square; whereas this Jack was just as short, a good deal 
thicker, and as round as a dumpling. In one thing, however, 
the likeness still remained perfect. Both Jacks chewed to¬ 
bacco, to a degree that became a distinct feature in their ap¬ 
pearance. 

Spike had many reasons for wishing Jack Tier were not re¬ 
suscitated in this extraordinary manner, and some for being glad 
to see him. The fellow had once been largely in his confidence, 
and knew more than was quite safe for any one to remember 
but himself, while he mighf be of great use to him in his future 
operations. It is always convenient to have one at your elbow 
who thoroughly understands you, and Spike would have lowered 
a boat and sent it to the wharf to bring Jack off, were it not 
for the gentleman who was so inquisitive about pilots. Undej 
the circumstances, he determined to forego the advantages of 
Jack’s presence, reserving the right to hunt him up on his re¬ 
turn. 

The reader will readily enough comprehend, that the Molly 
Swash was not absolutely standing still while the dialogue re- 


JACK TIER. 


27 


lated was going on, and the thoughts we have recorded were 
passing through her master’s mind. On the contrary, she was 
not only in motion, but that motion was gradually increasing, 
and by the time all was said that has been related, it had 
become necessary for those who spoke to raise their voices to 
an inconvenient pitch in order to be heard. This circumstance 
alone would soon have put an end to the conversation, had not 
Spike’s pausing to reflect brought about the same result as men¬ 
tioned. 

In the mean time, Mulford had got the canvas spread. For¬ 
ward, the Swash showed all the cloth of a full-rigged brig, even 
to royals and flying jib; while aft, her mast was the raking, 
tall, naked pole of an American schooner. There was a taunt 
topmast, too, to which a galf-topsail was set, and the gear 
proved that she could also show, at need, a staysail in this part 
of her, if necessary. As the Gate was before them, however, the 
people had set none but the plain, manageable canvas. 

The Molly Swash kept close on a wind, luffing athwart the 
broad reach she was in, until far enough to weather Blackwell’s, 
when she edged ofl' to her course, and went through the south¬ 
ern passage. Although the wind remained light, and a little 
baffling, the brig was so easily impelled, and was so very handy, 
that there was no difficulty in keeping her perfectly in com¬ 
mand. The tide, too, was fast increasing in strength and velocity, 
and the movement from this cause alone was getting to be suf¬ 
ficiently rapid. 

As for the passengers, of whom we have lost sight in order to 
get the brig under way, they were now on deck again. At first, 
they had all gone below, under the care of Josh, a somewhat 
rough groom of the chambers, to take possession of their apart¬ 
ment, a sufficiently neat, and exceedingly comfortable cabin, 
supplied with every thing that could be wanted at sea, and, 
what was more, lined on two of its sides with staterooms. It is 
true, all these apartments were small, and the staterooms were 
very low, but no fault could be found with their neatness and 


28 


JACK TIER. 


general arrangements, when it was recollected that one was on 
board a vessel. 

“Here ebbeiy t’ing heart can wish,” said Josh, exultingly, 
who, being an old-school black, did not disdain to use some of 
the old-school dialect of his caste. “ Yes, ladies, ebbery t’ing. 
Let Cap’n Spike alone for dat! He won’erful at accommoda¬ 
tion! Not a bed-bug aft—know better dan come here; jest 
like de people, in dat respects, and keep deir place forrard. You 
nebber see a pig come on de quarter-deck, nudder.” 

“ You must maintain excellent discipline. Josh,” cried Rose, 
in one of the sweetest voices in the world, which was easily 
attuned to merriment—“ and we are delighted to learn what 
you tell us. How do you manage to keep up these distinctions 
and make such creatures know their places so well ?” 

“ Nuttin easier, if you begin right, miss. As for de pig, I 
teach dem wid scaldin’ water. Wheneber I sees a pig come 
aft, I gets a little water from de copper, and just scald him wid 
it. You can’t t’ink, miss, how dat mend his manners, and make 
him squeel fuss, and t’ink arter. In dat fashion I soon get de 
ole ones in good trainin’, and den I has no more trouble wid 
dem as comes fresh aboard; for de ole hog tell de young one, 
and ’em won’erful cunnin’, and know how to take care of ’em- 
self.” 

Rose Budd’s sweet eyes were full of fun and expectation, and 
she could no more repress her laugh than youth and spirits can 
always be discreet. 

“Yes, with the pigs,” she cried, “that might do very well; 
but how is it with those—other creatures ?” 

“ Rosy, dear,” interrupted the aunt, “ I wish you would say 
no more about such shocking things. It’s enough for us that 
Captain Spike has ordered them all to stay forward among the 
men, which is always done on board well-disciplined vessels. 
I’ve heard your uncle say, a hundi’ed times, that the quarter¬ 
deck was sacred, and that might be enough to keej) su(di ani¬ 
mals off it.” 


JACK TIER. 


29 


It was barely necessary to look at Mrs. Budd in the face to 
get a very accurate general notion of her character. She was 
one of those inane, uncultivated beings who seem to be protected 
by a benevolent Providence in their pilgrimage on earth, for 
they do not seem to possess the power to protect themselves. 
Her very countenance expressed imbecility and mental depen¬ 
dence, credulity and a love of gossip. Notwithstanding these 
radical weaknesses, the good woman had some of the better 
instincts of her sex, and was never guilty of any thing that 
could properly convey reproach. 

She was no monitress for Rose, however, the niece much 
oftener influencing the aunt, than the aunt influencing the niece. 
The latter had been fortunate in having had an excellent instruct¬ 
ress, who, though incapable of teaching her much in the way of 
accomplishments, had imparted a great deal that was respect¬ 
able and useful. Rose had character, and strong character, too, 
as the course of our naiTative will show; but her worthy aunt 
was a piu-e picture of as much mental imbecility as at all com¬ 
ported with the privileges of self-government. 

The conversation about “ those other creatures” was effectually 
checked by Mrs. Budd’s horror of the “ animals,” and Josh was 
called on deck so shortly after as to prevent its being renewed. 
The females staid below a few minutes, to take possession, and 
then they reappeared on deck, to gaze at the hon’ors of the 
Hell-Gate passage. Rose was all eyes, wonder and admiration 
of every thing she saw. This was actually the first time she 
had ever been on the water, in any sort of craft, though born 
and brought up in sight of one of the most thronged havens in 
the world. But there must be a beginning to every thing, and 
this was Rose Budd’s beginning on the water. It is true the 
brigantine was a very beautiful, as well as an exceedingly swift 
vessel; but all this was lost on Rose, who would have admired 
a horse-jockey bound to the West Indies, in this the incipient 
state of her nautical knowledge. Perhaps the exquisite neatness 
that Mulford maintained about every thing that came under his 


30 


JACK TIER. 


care, and that included every thing on deck, or above-board, and 
about which neatness Spike occasionally muttered an oath, as 
so much senseless trouble, contributed somewhat to Rose’s 
pleasure; but her admiration would scarcely have been less 
with any thing that had sails, and seemed to move through the 
water with a power approaching that of volition. 

It was very different with Mrs. Budd. She, good woman, 
had actually made one voyage with her late husband, and she 
fancied that she knew all about a vessel. It was her delight to 
talk on nautical subjects, and never did she really feel her 
great superiority over her niece, so very unequivocally, as when 
the subject of the ocean was introduced, about which she did 
-know something, and touching which Rose was profoundly 
ignorant, or as ignorant as a girl of lively imagination could re¬ 
main with the information gleaned from others. 

“I am not surprised you are astonished at the sight of the ves¬ 
sel, Rosy,” observed the self-complacent aunt at one of her niece’s 
exclamations of admiration. “A vessel is a very wonderful thing, 
and we are told what extr’orny beings they are that ‘ go down 
to the sea in ships.’ But you are to know this is not a ship at all, 
but only a half-jigger rigged, which is altogether a different thing.” 

“ Was my uncle’s vessel. The Rose In Bloom, then, very dif¬ 
ferent from the Swash ?” 

“Very different indeed, child! Why, The Rose In Bloom was 
a full jiggered ship, and had twelve masts—and this is only a 
half-jiggered brig, and has but two masts. See, you may count 
them—one—two !” 

Harry Mulford was coiling away a top-gallant-brace, directly 
in front of Mrs. Budd and Rose, and, at hearing this account of 
the wonderful equipment of The Rose In Bloom, he suddenly 
looked up, with a lurking expression about his eye that the 
niece very well comprehended, while he exclaimed, without 
much reflection, under the impulse of surprise— 

“ Twelve masts! Did I understand you to say, ma’am, that 
Capt. Budd’s ship had twelve masts ?” 


JACK TIER. 


31 


“ Yes, sir, twelve! and I can tell you all their names, for T 
learnt them by heart—it appearing to me proper that a ship¬ 
master’s wife should know the names of all the masts in her hus¬ 
band’s vessel. Do you wish to hear their names, Mr. Mulford ?” 

Harry Mulford would have enjoyed this conversation to the 
top of his bent, had it not been for Rose. She well knew her 
aunt’s general weakness of intellect, and especially its weakness 
on this particular subject, but she would suffer no one to mani¬ 
fest contempt for either, if in her power to prevent it. It is 
seldom one so young, so mirthful, so ingenuous and innocent in 
the expression of her countenance, assumed so significant and 
rebuking a frown as did pretty Rose Budd when she heard the 
mate’s involuntary exclamation about the “ twelve masts.” Harry, 
who was not easily checked by his equals, or any of his own sex, 
submitted to that rebuking frown with the meekness of a child, 
and stammered out, in answer to the well-meaning, but weak- 
minded widow’s question— 

“ If you please, Mrs. Budd—just as you please, ma’am—only 
twelve is a good many masts—” Rose frowned again—“ that is 
—^more than I’m used to seeing—that’s all.” 

“ I dare say, Mr. Mulford—for you sail in only a half-jigger ; 
but Captain Budd always sailed in a full-jigger—and his full- 
jiggered ship had just twelve masts; and, to prove it to you. 
I’ll give you the names. First, then, there were the fore, main, 
and mizen masts—” 

“Yes—yes—ma’am,” stammered Harry, who wished the 
twelve masts and The Rose In Bloom at the bottom of the 
ocean, since her owner’s niece still continued to look coldly dis¬ 
pleased—“ that’s right, I can swear !” 

“ Very true, sir; and you’ll find I am right as to all the rest. 
Then, there were the fore, main, and mizen top-masts—they 
make six, if I can count, Mr. Mulford ?” 

“ Ah !” exclaimed the mate, laughing, in spite of Rose’s 
frowns, as the manner in which the old sea-dog had quizzed his 
wife became apparent to him, “ T see how it is—you are quite 


32 


JACK TIER. 


right, ma’am—I dare say The Kose In Bloom had all these 
masts, and some to spare.” 

“Yes, sir—I knew you would be satisfied. The fore, main, 
and mizen top-gallant masts make nine—and the fore, main, 
and mizen royals make just twelve. Oh, I’m never wrong in 
any thing about a vessel, especially if she is a full-jiggered 
ship.” 

Mulford had some difiiculty in restraining his smiles each 
time the full-jigger was mentioned, but Bose’s expression of 
countenance kept him in excellent order—and she, innocent 
creature, saw nothing ridiculous in the term, though the twelve 
masts had given her a little alarm. Delighted that the old lady 
had got through her enumeration of the spars with so much suc¬ 
cess, Rose cried, in the exuberance of her spirits— 

“ Well, aunty, for my part, I find a half-jigger vessel so very, 
very beautiful, that I do not know how I should behave were I 
to go on board a/w^Z-jigger.” 

Mulford turned abruptly away, the circumstance of Rose’s 
making herself ridiculous giving him sudden pain, though he 
could have laughed at her aunt by the hour. 

“ Ah, my dear, that is on account of your youth and inexpe¬ 
rience ; but you will learn better in time. I was just so, myself, 
when I was of your age, and thought the fore-rafters were as 
handsome as the squared-jiggers; but soon after I married 
Captain Budd I felt the necessity of knowing more than I did 
about ships, and I got him to teach me. He didn’t like the 
business, at first, and pretended I would never learn; but, at 
last, it came all at once, like, and then he used to be delighted 
to hear me ‘ talk ship,’ as he called it. I’ve known him 
laugh, with his cronies, as if ready to die, at my expertness in 
sea-terms, for half an hour together; and then he would 
swear—that was the worst fault your uncle had. Rosy—he 
would swear, sometimes, in a way that frightened me, I do 
declare 1” 

“ But he never swore at you, aunty ?” 


• JACK TIER. 


33 


“ 1 can’t say that he did exactly do that, but he would swear 
all round me, even if he didn’t actually touch me, when things 
went wrong ; but it would have done your heart good to hear 
him laugh! He had a most excellent heart, just like your own. 
Rosy dear; but, for that matter, all the Budds have excellent 
hearts, and one of the commonest ways your uncle had of show¬ 
ing it was to laugh, particularly when we were together and 
talking. Oh, he used to delight in hearing me converse, es¬ 
pecially about vessels, and never failed to get me at it when he 
had company. I see his good-natured, excellent-hearted coun¬ 
tenance at this moment, with the tears running down his fat, 
manly cheeks, as he shook his very sides with laughter. I may 
live a hundred years. Rosy, before I meet again with your un¬ 
cle’s equal.” 

This was a subject that invariably silenced Rose. She remem¬ 
bered her uncle, herself, and remembered his affectionate manner 
of laughing at her aunt, and she always wished the latter to get 
through her eulogiums on her married happiness as soon as pos¬ 
sible, whenever the subject was introduced. 

All this time the Molly Swash kept in motion. Spike never 
took a pilot when he could avoid it, and his mind was too much 
occupied with his duty, in that critical navigation, to share at 
all in the conversation of his passengers, though he did endeavor 
to make himself agreeable to Rose, by an occasional remark, 
when a favorable opportunity offered. 

As soon as he had worked his brig over into the south or 
weather passage of Blackwell’s, however, there remained little 
for him to do, until she had drifted through it, a distance of a 
mile or more; and this gave him leisure to do the honors. He 
pointed out the castellated edifice on Blackwell’s as the new 
penitentiary, and the hamlet of villas, on the other shore, as 
Ravenswood, though there is neither wood nor ravens to au¬ 
thorize the name. But the “ Sunswick,” which satisfied the 
Delafields and Gibbses of the olden time, and which distin¬ 
guished their lofty halls and broad lawns, was not elegant 
2 ^ 


34 


JACK TIER. 


enough for the cockney tastes of these latter days, so “wood” 
must be made to usurp the place of cherries and apples, and 
“ ravens ” that of gulls, in order to satisfy its cravings. But 
all this was lost on Spike. He remembered the shore as it had 
been twenty years before, and he saw what it was now, but lit¬ 
tle did he care for the change. On the whole, he rather pre¬ 
ferred the Grecian Temples, over which the ravens would have 
been compelled to fly, had there been any ravens in that neigh¬ 
borhood, to the old-fashioned and highly respectable residence 
that once alone occupied the spot. The point he did under¬ 
stand, however, and on the merits of which he had something 
to say, was a little farther ahead. That, too, had been re¬ 
christened—the Hallet’s Cove of the mariner being converted 
into Astoria—not that bloody-minded place at the mouth of the 
Oregon, which has come so near bringing us to blows with our 
“ ancestors in England,” as the worthy denizens of that quarter 
choose to consider themselves still, if one can judge by their 
language. This Astoria was a very different place, and is one 
of the many suburban villages that are shooting up, like mush¬ 
rooms in a night, around the great Commercial Emporium. This 
spot Spike understood perfectly, and it was not likely that he 
should pass it without communicating a portion of his knowl¬ 
edge to Rose. 

“ There, Miss Rose,” he said, with a didactic sort of air, 
pointing with his short, thick Anger at the little bay which was 
just opening to their view—“ there’s as neat a cove as a craft 
need bring up in. That used to be a capital place to lie in, to 
wait for a wind to pass the Gate; but it has got to be most 
too public for my taste. I’m rural, I tell Mulford, and love to 
get in out-of-the-way berths with my brig, where she can see 
salt-meadows, and smell the clover. You never catch me down 
in any of the crowded slips, around the markets, or anywhere 
in that part of the town, for I do love country air. That’s Hal¬ 
let’s Cove, Miss Rose, and a pretty anchorage it would be for us, 
if the wind and tide didn’t sarve to take us through the Gate.” 


tJACK TIER. 


35 


“ Are we near the Gate, Captain Spike ?” asked Rose, the fine 
bloom on her cheek lessening a little, under the apprehension 
that formidable name is apt to awaken in the breasts of the in¬ 
experienced. 

“ Half a mile, or so. It begins just at the other end of this 
island, on our larboard hand, and will be all over in about an¬ 
other half mile, or so. It’s no such bad place, a’ter all, is Hell- 
Gate, to them that’s used to it. I call myself a pilot in Hell- 
Gate, though I have no branch.” 

“ I wish. Captain Spike, I could teach you to give that place 
its proper and polite name. We call it Whirl-Gate altogether 
now,” said the relict. 

“ Well, that’s new to me,” cried Spike. “ I have heard some 
chicken-mouthed folk say ATwrZ-Gate, but this is the first time 
I ever heard it called Whirl-Gate—they’ll get it to Whirligig- 
Gate next. I don’t think that my old commander. Captain 
Budd, called the passage any thing but honest up and down 
Hell-Gate.” 

“ That he did—that he did—and all my arguments and read¬ 
ing could not teach him any better. I proved to him that it 
was Whirl-Gate, as any one can see that it ought to be. It is 
full of whirlpools, they say, and that shows what Nature meant 
the name to be ” 

“ But, aunty,” put in Rose, half reluctantly, half anxious to 
speak, “ what has gate to do with whirlpools ? You will re¬ 
member it is called a gate—the gate to that wicked place I 
suppose is meant.” 

“ Rose, you amaze me ! How can yow, a young woman of 
only nineteen, stand up for so vulgar a name as Hell-Gate !” 

“ Do you think it as vulgar as Hurl-Gate, aunty ? To me it 
always seems the most vulgar to be straining at g-nats.” 

“ Yes,” said Spike sentimentally, “ I’m quite of Miss Rose’s 
way of thinking—straining at gnats is very ill-manners, es¬ 
pecially at table. I -once knew a man who strained in this 
way, until I thought he would have choked, though it was with 


36 


JACK TIER. 


a fly to be sure; but gnats are nothing but small flies, you 
know, Miss Rose. Yes, I’m quite of your way of thinking. Miss 
Rose; it is very vulgar to be straining at gnats and flies, more 
particularly at table. But you’ll find no flies or gnats aboard 
here, to be straining at, or brushing away, or to annoy you. 
Stand by there, my hearties, and see all clear to run through 
Hell-Gate. Don’t let me catch you straining at any thing, 
though it should be the fin of a whale !” 

The people forward looked at each other, as they listened to 
this novel admonition, though they called out the customary 
“ ay, ay, sir,” as they went to the sheets, braces, and bowlines. 
To them the passage of no Hell-Gate conveyed the idea of any 
particular terror, and with the one they were about to enter, 
they were much too familiar to care any thing about it. 

The brig was now floating fast, with the tide, up abreast of 
the east end of Blackwell’s, and in two or three more minutes 
she would be fairly in the Gate. Spike was aft, where he could 
command a view of every thing forward, and Mulford stood on 
the quarter-deck, to look after the head-braces. An old and 
trustworthy seaman, who acted as a sort of boatswain, had the 
charge on the forecastle, and was to tend the sheets and tack. 
His name was Rove. 

“ See all clear,” called out Spike. “ D’ye hear there, for’ard! 
I shall make a half-board in the Gate, if the wind favor us, and 
the tide prove strong enough to hawse us to wind’ard sufijciently 
to clear the Pot; so mind your— 

The captain breaking oft’ in the middle of this harangue, Mul¬ 
ford turned his head, in order to see what might be the matter. 
There was Spike, levelling a spyglass at a boat that was pulling 
swiftly out of the north channel, and shooting like an arrow 
directly athwart the brig’s bows into the main passage of the 
Gate. He stepped to the captain’s elbow. 

“Just take a look at them chaps, Mr. Mulford,” said Spike, 
handing his mate the glass. 


t 


37 


JACK TIER. 

“ They seem in a hurry,” answered Harry, as he adjusted the 
glass to his eye, “ and will go through the Gate in less time than 
it will take to mention the circumstance.” 

“ What do you make of them, sir ?” 

“ The little man who calls himself Jack Tier is in the stern- 
sheets of the boat, for one,” answered Mulford. 

“ And the other, Harry—what do you make of the other ?” 

“ It seems to be the chap who hailed to know if we had a 
pilot. He means to board us at Hiker’s Island, and make us 
pay pilotage, whether we want his services or not.” 

“ Blast him and his pilotage too! Give me the glass”— 
taking another long look at the boat, which by this time was 
glancing, rather than pulling, nearly at right angles across his 
bows. “ I want no such pilot aboard here, Mr. Mulford. Take 
another look at him—here, you can see him, away on the weather 
bow, already.” 

Mulford did take another look at him, and this time his ex¬ 
amination was longer and more scrutinizing than before. 

“ It is not easy to cover him with the glass,” observed the 
young man ; “ the boat seems fairly to fly.” 

“ WVre forereaching too near the Hog’s Back, Captain Spike,” 
roared the boatswain, from forward. 

“ Ready about—hard a lee,” shouted Spike. “ Let all fly, 
for’ard—help her round, boys, all you can, and wait for no or¬ 
ders ! Bestir yourselves—bestir yourselves.” 

It was time the crew should be in earnest. While Spike’s 
attention had been thus diverted by the boat, the brig had got 
into the strongest of the current, which, by setting her fast to 
windward, had trebled the power of the air, and this was shoot¬ 
ing her over towards one of the greatest dangers of the passage 
on a flood tide. As everybody bestirred themselves, however, 
she was got round and fllled on the opposite tack, just in time 
to clear the rocks. Spike breathed again, but his head was 
still full of the boat. The danger he had just escaped as Scylla 


38 


JACK TIER, 


met him as Chaiybdis. The boatswain again roared to go 
about. The order was given as the vessel began to pitch in a 
heavy swell. At the next instant she rolled until the water 
came on deck, whirled with her stem down the tide, and her 
bows rose as if she were about to leap out of water. The 
Swash had hit the Pot Rock. 


JACK TIER. 


39 


CHAPTER II. 

“ Watch, If we know him to be a thief, shall we not lay hands on him ? 

“-Cog'S. Truly, by our office, you may; but I think they that touch pitch will bo 
defiled ; the most peaceable way for you, if you do take a thief, is, to let him show 
himself what he is, and steal out of your company.” 

Muon Ado About Nothing. 

We left the brigantine of Captain Spike in a very critical 
situation, and the master himself in great confusion of mind. 
A thorough seaman, this accident would never have happened, 
but for the sudden appearance of the boat and its passengers; 
one of whom appeared to be a source of great uneasiness to him. 
As might be expected, the circumstance of striking a place as 
dangerous as the Pot Rock in Hell-Gate, produced a great sen¬ 
sation on board the vessel. This sensation betrayed itself in 
various ways, and according to the characters, habits, and native 
firmness of the parties. As for the shipmaster’s relict, she 
seized hold of the mainmast, and screamed so loud and per- 
severingly, as to cause the sensation to extend itself into the 
adjacent and thriving village of Astoria, where it was distinctly 
heard by divers of those who dwelt near the water. Biddy 
Noon had her share in this clamor, lying down on the deck in 
order to prevent rolling over, and possibly to scream more at 
her leisure, while Rose had sufficient self-command to be silent, 
though her cheeks lost their color. 

Nor was there any thing extraordinary in females betraying 
this alarm, when one remembers the somewhat astounding signs 
of danger by which these persons were surrounded. There is 
always something imposing in the swift movement of a con¬ 
siderable body of water. When this movement is aided by 
whirlpools and the other similar accessories of an interrupted 


40 


JACK TIER. 


current, it frequently becomes startling, more especially to those 
who happen to be on the element itself. This is peculiarly the 
case with the Pot Rock, where, not only does the water roll and 
roar as if agitated by a mighty wind, but where it even breaks, 
the foam seeming to glance up stream, in the rapid succession 
of wave to wave. Had the Swash remained in her terrific berth 
more than a second or two, she would have proved what is 
termed a “ total lossbut she did not. Happily, the Pot Rock 
lies so low that it is not apt to fetch up any thing of a light 
draught of water, and the brigantine’s fore-foot had just settled 
on its summit, long enough to cause the vessel to whirl round 
and make her obeisance to the place, when a succeeding swell 
lifted her clear, and away she went down stream, rolling as if 
scudding in a gale, and, for a moment, under no command what¬ 
ever. There lay another danger ahead, or it would be better to 
say astern, for the brig was drifting stern foremost; and that 
was in an eddy under a bluff, which bluff lies at an angle in 
the reach, where it is no uncommon thing for craft to be cast 
ashore, after they have passed all the more imposing and more 
visible dangers above. It was in escaping this danger, and in 
recovering the command of his vessel, that Spike now mani¬ 
fested the sort of stuff of which he was really made, in emer¬ 
gencies of this sort. The yards were all sharp up when the 
accident occurred, and springing to the lee braces, just as a 
man winks when his eye is menaced, he seized the weather fore¬ 
brace with his own hands, and began to round in the yard, 
shouting out to the man at the wheel to “ port his helm” at the 
same time. Some of the people flew to his assistance, and the 
yards were not only squared, but braced a little up on the other 
tack, in much less time than we have taken to relate the evolu¬ 
tion. Mulford attended to the main-sheet, and succeeded in 
getting the boom out in the right direction. Although the wind 
was in truth very light, the velocity of the drift filled the can¬ 
vas, and taking the arrow-like current on her lee bow, the Swash, 
like a frantic steed that is alarmed with the wreck made by his 


JACK TIER. 


41 


own madness, came under command, and sheered out into the 
stream again, where she could drift clear of the apprehended 
danger astern. 

“ Sound the pumps !” called out Spike to Mulford, the instant 
lie saw he had regained his seat in the saddle. Harry sprang 
amidships to obey, and the eye of every mariner in that vessel 
was on the young man, as, in the midst of a death-like silence, 
he performed this all-important duty. It was like the physi¬ 
cian’s feeling the pulse of his patient before he pronounces on 
the degree of his danger. 

“ Well, sir ?” cried out Spike, impatiently, as the rod reap¬ 
peared. 

“ All right, sir,” answered Harry, cheerfully: “ the well is 
nearly empty.” 

“ Hold on a moment longer, and give the water time to find 
its way amidships, if there be any.” 

The mate remained perched up on the pump, in order to 
comply, while Spike and his people, who now breathed more 
freely again, improved the leisure to brace up and haul aft, to 
the new course. 

“ Biddy,” said Mrs. Budd considerately, during this pause in 
the incidents, “ you needn’t scream any longer. The danger 
seems to be past, and you may get up olf the deck now. See, 
I have let go of the mast. The pumps have been sounded, and 
are found tight.” 

Biddy, like an obedient and respectful servant, did as directed, 
quite satisfied if the pumps were tight. It was some little time, 
to be sure, before she was perfectly certain whether she were 
alive or not; but, once certain of this circumstance, her alanii 
very sensibly abated, and she became reasonable. As for Mul¬ 
ford, he dropped the sounding-rod again, and had the same 
cheering report to make. 

“ The brig is as tight as a bottle, sir.” 

“ So much the better,” answered Spike. “ I never had such 
a whirl in her before in my life, and I thought she was going to 


42 


JACK TIER. 


stop and pass the night there. That’s the very spot on which 
‘ The Hussar ’ frigate was wrecked.” 

“ So I have heard, sir. But she drew so much water that she 
hit slap against the rock, and started a butt. We merely touch¬ 
ed on its top with our fore-foot, and slid oflP.” 

This was the simple explanation of the Swash’s escape, and, 
everybody being now well assured that no harm had been done, 
things fell into their old and regular train again. As for Spike, 
his gallantry, notwithstanding, was upset for some hours, and 
glad enough was he when he saw all three of his passengers 
quit the deck to go below. Mrs. Budd’s spirits had been so 
much agitated, that she told Rose she would go down into the 
cabin and rest a few minutes on its sofa.^ We say sofa, for 
that article of furniture, now-a-days, is far more common in 
vessels than it was thirty years ago in the dwellings of the 
country. 

“ There, Mulford,” growled Spike, pointing ahead of the brig, 
to an object on the water that was about half a mile ahead of 
them—“ there’s that bloody boat—d’ye see ? I should like of 
all things to give it the slip. There’s a chap in that boat I 
don’t like.” 

“ I don’t see how that can be very well done, sir, unless we 
anchor, repass the Gate at the turn of the tide, and go to sea by 
the way of Sandy Hook.” 

“ That will never do. I’ve no wish to be parading the brig 
before the town. You see, Mulford, nothing can be more inno¬ 
cent and proper than the Molly Swash, as you know from having 
sailed in her these twelve months. You’ll give her that charac¬ 
ter, I’ll be sworn ?” 

“ I know no harm of her. Captain Spike, and hope I never 
shall.” 

“ No, sir—you know no harm of her, nor does any one else. 
A nursing infant is not more innocent than the Molly Swash, 
or could have a clearer character, if nothing but truth was said 
of her. But the world is so much given to lying, that one of 


JACK TIER. 


43 


the old saints, of whom we read in the good book, such as 
Calvin and John Rogers, would be vilified if he lived in these 
times. Then, it must be owned, Mr. Mulford, whatever may be 
the raal innocence of the brig, she has a most desperate wicked 
look.” 

“ Why, yes, sir—it must be owned she is what we sailors call 
a wicked-looking craft. But some of Uncle Sam’s cruisers have 
that appearance, also.” 

“ I know it—I know it, sir, and think nothing of looks my¬ 
self. Men are often deceived in me, by my looks, which have 
none of your longshore softness about ’em, perhaps; but my 
mother used to say I was one of the most tender-hearted boys 
she had ever heard spoken of—like one of the babes in the 
woods, as it might be. But mankind go so much by appear¬ 
ances, that I don’t like to trust the brig too much afore their 
eyes. Now, should we be seen in the lower bay, waiting for a 
wind, or for the ebb-tide to make, to carry us over the bar, ten 
to one but some philotropic or other would be off with a com¬ 
plaint to the District Attorney that we looked like a slaver, and 
have us all fetched up to be tried for our lives as pirates. No, 
no—I like to keep the brig in out-of-the-way places, where she 
can give no offence to your ’tropics, whether they be philos, or 
of any other sort.” 

“ Well, sir, we are to the eastward of the Gate, and all’s safe. 
That boat cannot bring us up.” 

“ You forget, Mr. Mulford, the revenue-craft that steamed 
up, on the ebb. That vessel must be off Sands’ Point by this 
time, and she may hear something to our disparagement from 
the feller in the boat, and take it into her smoky head to 
walk us back to town. I wish we were well to the eastward 
of that steamer! But there’s no use in lamentations. If 
there is really any danger, it’s some distance ahead yet, thank 
Heaven 1” 

“ You have no fears of the man who calls himself Jack Tier, 
Captain Spike ?” 


44 


JACK TIER. 


“None in the world. That feller, as I remember him, was a 
little bustlin’ chap that I kept in the cabin, as a sort of stew¬ 
ard’s mate. There was neither good nor harm in him, to the 
best of my recollection. But Josh can tell us all about him— 
Just give Josh a call.” 

The best thing in the known history of Spike was the fact 
that his steward had sailed with him for more than twenty 
years. Where he had picked up Josh, no one could say but 
Josh and himself, and neither chose to be very communicative 
on the subject. But Josh had certainly been with him as long 
as he had sailed the Swash, and that was from a time actually 
anterior to the birth of Mulford. The mate soon had the negro 
in the council. 

“I say. Josh,” asked Spike, “do you happen to remember 
such a hand aboard here as one Jack Tier ?” 

“ Lor’ bless you, yes, sir—’members he as well as I do the pea 
soup that was burnt, and which you ’trowed all over him, to 
scald him for punishment.” 

“ I’ve had to do that so often, to one careless fellow or other, 
that the circumstance doesn’t recall the man. I remember him, 
but not as clear as I could wish. How long did he sail with 
us ?” 

“ Sebberal v’y’ge, sir, and got left ashore down on the Main, 
one night, when ’e boat were obliged to shove off in a hurry. 
Yes, ’members little Jack right well, I does.” 

“ Did you see the man that spoke us from the wharf, and hailed 
for this very Jack Tier ?” 

“ I see’d a man, sir, dat was won’erful Jack Tier built like, 
sir, but I didn’t hear the conwersation, habbin’ the ladies to 
’tend to. But Jack was oncommon short in his floor tim¬ 
bers, sir, and had no length of keel at all. His beam was 
won’erful for his length, altogedder—what you call jolly-boat, or 
bum-boat build, and was only good afore ’e wind, Cap’n Spike.” 

“ Was he good for any thing aboard ship. Josh ? Worth 
heaving-to for, should he try to get aboard of us again ?” 


JACK TIER. 


45 


“ Why, sir, I can’t say much for him in dat fashion. Jack 
was handy in de cabin, and capital feller to carry soup from 
the gaily, aft. You see, sir, he was so low-rigged that de 
brig’s lurchin’ and pitchin’ couldn’t get him off his pins, and he 
stood up like a church in de heaviest wea’der. Yes, sir. Jack 
was right good for daV^ 

Spike mused a moment—then he rolled the tobacco over in 
his mouth, and added, in the way a man speaks when his mind 
is made up— 

“ Ay, ay! I see into the fellow. He’ll make a handy lady’s 
maid, and we want such a chap just now. It’s better to have 
an old friend aboard, than to be pickin’ up strangers, ’long 
shore. So, should this Jack Tier come off to us, from any of 
the islands or points ahead, Mr. Mulford, you’ll round-to and 
take him aboard. As for the steamer, if she will only pass out 
into the Sound where there’s room, it shall go hard with us but 
I get to the eastward of her, without speaking. On the other 
hand, should she anchor this side of the fort. I’ll not attempt 
to pass her. There is deep water inside of most of the islands, 
I know, and we’ll try and dodge her in that way, if no better 
offer. I’ve no more reason than another craft to fear a govern¬ 
ment vessel, but the sight of one of them makes me oncom- 
fortable—that’s all.” 

Mulford shrugged his shoulders and remained silent, perceiv¬ 
ing that his commander was, not disposed to pursue the subject 
any further. In the mean time, the brig had passed beyond 
the influence of the bluff, and was beginning to feel a stronger 
breeze, that was coming down the wide opening of Flushing 
Bay. As the tide still continued .strong in her favor, and her 
motion through the water was getting to be four or five knots, 
there was every prospect of her soon reaching Whitestone, the 
point where the tides meet, and where it would become neces¬ 
sary to anchor; unless, indeed, the wind, which was now 
getting to the southward and eastward, should come round 
more to the south. All this Spike and his mate discussed to- 


46 


JACK TIER. 


gether, while the people were clearing the decks, and making 
the preparations that are customary on board a vessel before 
she gets into rough water. 

By this time it was ascertained that the brig had received no 
damage by her salute of the Pot Rock, and every trace of unea¬ 
siness on that account was removed. But Spike kept harping 
on the boat, and “ the pilot-looking chap who was in her.” As 
they passed Riker’s Island, all hands expected a boat would 
put off with a pilot, or to demand pilotage; but none came, and 
the Swash now seemed released from all her present dangers, 
unless some might still be connected with the revenue-steamer. 
To retard her advance, however, the wind came out a smart 
working breeze from the southward and eastward, compelling 
her to make “ long legs and short ones” on her way towards 
Whitestone. 

“ This is beating the wind. Rosy dear,” said Mrs. Budd, com¬ 
placently, she and her niece having returned to the deck a few 
minutes after this change had taken place. “ Your respected 
uncle did a great deal of this in his time, and was very success¬ 
ful in it. I have heard him say, that in one of his voyages 
between Liverpool and New York, he beat the wind by a whole 
fortnight, everybody talking of it in the insurance offices, as if it 
was a miracle.” 

“ Ay, ay. Madam Budd,” put in Spike, “ I’ll answer for that. 
They’re desperate talkers in and about them there insurance 
offices in Wall-street. Great gossips be they, and they think 
they know every thing. Now just because this brig is a little 
old or so, and was built for .a privateer in the last war, theyM 
refuse to rate her as even B, No. 2, and my blessing on ’em.” 

“ Yes, B, No. 2, that’s just what your dear uncle used to call 
me, Rosy—his charming B, No. 2, or Betsy, No. 2; particu¬ 
larly when he was in a loving mood. Captain Spike, did you 
ever beat the wind in a long voyage ?” 

“ I can’t say I ever did, Mrs. Budd,” answered Spike, looking 
giimly around, to ascertain if any one dared to smile at his pas- 


JACK TIER. 


41 

senger’s mistake; “ especially for so long a pull as fi-om New 
York to Liverpool.” 

“ Then your uncle used to boast of The Kose In Bloom’s wear¬ 
ing and attacking. She would attack any thing that came in 
her way, no matter who; and as for wearing, I think he once 
told me she would wear just what she had a mind to, like any 
human bein^.” 

Rose was a little mystified, but she looked vexed at the same 
time, as if she distrusted all was not right. 

“I remember all my sea education,” continued the unsus¬ 
pecting widow, “ as if it had been learnt yesterday. Beating the 
wind and attacking ship, my poor Mr. Budd used to say, were 
nice manoeuvres, and required most of his tactics, especially in 
heavy weather. Did you know. Rosy dear, that sailors weigh 
the weather, and know when it is heavy and when it is light ?” 

“ I did not, aunt; nor do I understand now how it can very 
well be done.” 

“ Oh! child, before you have been at sea a week, you will 
learn so many things that are new, and get so many ideas of 
which you never had any notion before, that you’ll not be the 
same person. My captain had an instrument he called a ther¬ 
mometer, and with that he used to weigh the weather, and then 
he would write down in a log-book ‘ to-day, heavy weathei’, or 
to-mon’ow, light weather,’ just as it happened, and that helped 
him mightily along in his voyages.” 

“ Mrs. Budd has merely mistaken the name of the instrument 
—the ‘ barometer’ is what she wished to say,” put in Mulford, 
opportunely. 

Rose looked grateful, as well as relieved. Though profoundly 
ignorant on these subjects herself, she had always suspected her 
aunt’s knowledge. It was, consequently, grateful to her to ascer¬ 
tain that, in this instance, the old lady’s mistake had been so trifling. 

“ Well, it may have been the barometer, for I know he had 
them both,” resumed the aunt. “Barometer, or thermometer, 
it don’t make any great difference; or quadrant, or sextant. 


48 


JACK TIER. 


They are all instruments, and sometimes lie used one, and some¬ 
times another. Sailors take on board the sun, too, and have 
an instrument for that, as well as one to weigh the weather 
with.* Sometimes they take on board the stars, and the moon, 
and ‘ fill their ships with the heavenly bodies,’ as I’ve heard my 
dear husband say, again and again! But the most curious 
thing at sea, as all sailors tell me, is crossing the line, and I do 
hope we shall cross the line. Rosy, that you and I may see it.” 

“ What is the line, aunty, and how do vessels cross it ?” 

“ The line, my dear, is a place in the ocean where the earth 
is divided into two parts, one part being called the North Pole, 
and the other part the South Pole. Neptune lives near this 
line, and he allows no vessel to go out of one pole into the other, 
without paying it a visit. Never, never!—he would as soon 
think of living on dry land as think of letting even a canoe pass, 
without visiting it.” 

“ Do you suppose there is such a being, really, as Neptune, 
aunty ?” 

“ To be sure I do; he is king of the sea. Why shouldn’t 
there be ? The sea must have a king, as well as the land.” 

“ The sea may be a republic, aunty, like this country; then, 
no king is necessary. I have always supposed Neptune to be 
an imaginary being.” 

“ Oh that’s impossible—the sea is no republic; there are but 
two republics, America and Texas. I’ve heard that the sea is 
a highway, it is true—‘ the highway of nations,’ I believe it is 
called, and that must mean something particular. But my poor 
Mr. Budd always told me that Neptune was king of the seas, 
and he was always so accurate, you might depend on every 
thing he said. Why, he called his last Newfoundland dog 
Neptune; and do you think. Rosy, that your dear uncle would 
call his dog after an imaginary being—and he a man to beat 
the wind, and attack ship, and take the sun, moon, and stars 
aboard! No, no, child; fanciful folk may see imaginary beings, 
but solid folk see solid beino*s.” 

o 


JACK TIER. 


49 


Even Spike was clumfounded at this, and there is no knowing 
what he might have said, had not an old sea-dog, who had just 
come out of the fore-topmast cross-trees, waddled aft, and, hitching 
up his trowsers with one hand while he touched his hat with 
the other, said with immovable gravity— 

“The revenue-steamer has brought up just under the fort. 
Captain Spike.” 

“ How do you know that, Bill ?” demanded the captain, with 
a rapidity that showed how completely Mrs. Budd and all her 
absurdities were momentarily forgotten. 

“ I was up on the fore-topgallant yard, sir, a bit ago, just to 
look to the strap of the jewel-block, which wants some sarvice 
on it, and I see’d her over the land, blowin’ off steam and takin’ 
in her kites. Afore I got out of the cross-trees, she was head 
to wind under bare-poles, and if she hadn’t anchored, she was 
about to do so. I’m sartin ’twas she, sir, and that she was about 
to bring up.” 

Spike gave a long, low whistle, after his fashion, and he 
walked away from the females, with the air of a man who 
wanted room to think in. Half a minute later, he called out— 

“ Stand by to shorten sail, boys. Man fore-clew-garnets, fly¬ 
ing jib down haul, topgallant sheets, and gaft-topsail gear. In 
with ’em all, my lads—in with every thing, with a will.” 

An order to deal with the canvas in any way on board ship, 
immediately commands the whole attention of all whose duty it 
is to attend to such matters, and there was an end of all dis¬ 
course while the Swash was shortening sail. Everybody un¬ 
derstood, too, that is was to gain time, and prevent the brig 
from reaching Throg’s Neck sooner than was desirable. 

“ Keep the brig off,” called out Spike, “ and let her ware—we’re 
too busy to tack just now.” 

The man at the wheel knew very well what was wanted, and 
he put his helm up, instead of putting it down, as he might 
have done without this injunction. As this change brought the 
hi-ig before the wind, and Spike was in no hurry to luff up on 

3 


50 


JACK TIER. 


the other tack, the Swash soon ran over a mile of the distance 
she had already made, putting her hack that much on her way 
to the Neck. It is out of our power to say what the people of 
the different craft in sight thought of all this, but an opportu¬ 
nity soon offered of putting them on a wrong scent. A large 
coasting schooner, carrying every thing that would draw on a 
wind, came sweeping under the stern of the Swash, and hailed. 

“ Has any thing happened on board that brig demanded 
her master. 

“ Man overboard,” answered Spike ; “ you haven’t seen his 
hat, have you ?” 

“No, no,” came back, just as the schooner, in her onward 
course, swept beyond the reach of the voice. Her people 
collected together, and one or two ran up the rigging a short 
distance, stretching their necks, on the look-out for the “ poor 
fellow,” but they were soon called down to “ ’bout ship.” In 
less than five minutes, another vessel, a rakish coasting sloop, 
came within hail. 

“Didn’t that brig strike the Pot Rock, in passing the Gate?” 
demanded her captain. 

“ Ay, ay! and a devil of a rap she got, too.” 

This satisfied him ; there being nothing remarkable in a ves¬ 
sel’s acting strangely that had hit the Pot Rock in passing Hell- 
Gate. 

“ I think we may get in our mainsail on the strength of this, 
Mr. Mulford,” said Spike. “ There can be nothing oncommon 
in a craft’s shortening sail, that has a man overboard, and which 
has hit the Pot Rock. I wonder I never thought of all this 
before.” 

“ Here is a skiff trying to get alongside of us, Captain Spike,” 
called out the boatswain. 

“ Skiff* be d—d ! I want no skiff here.” 

“ The man that calls himself Jack Tier is in her, sir.” 

“ The d—1 he is !” cried Spike, springing over to the opposite 
side of the deck to take a look for himself. To his infinite satis- 


JACK TIER. 


61 


faction he perceived that Tier was alone in the skiff, with the 
exception of a negro, who pulled its sculls, and that this was a 
very different boat from that which had glanced through Hell- 
Gate, like an arrow darting from its bow. 

“ Luff, and shake your topsails,” called out Spike. “ Get a 
rope there to throw to this skiff.” 

The orders were obeyed, and Jack Tier, with his clothes-bag, 
was soon on the deck of the Swash. As for the skiff and the 
negro, they were cast adrift the instant the latter had received 
his quarter. The meeting between Spike and his quondam 
steward’s mate was a little remarkable. Each stood looking in¬ 
tently at the other, as if to note the changes which time had 
made. We cannot say that Spike’s hard, red, selfish counte¬ 
nance betrayed any great feeling, though such was not the case 
with Jack Tier’s. The last, a lymphatic, puffy sort of a person 
at the best, seemed really a little touched, and he either actually 
brushed a tear from his eye, or he affected so to do. 

“ So, you are my old shipmate. Jack Tier, are ye ?” ex¬ 
claimed Spike, in a half-patronizing, half-hesitating way; “ and 
you want to try the old craft ag’in. Give us a leaf of your log, 
and let me know where you have been this many a day, and 
what you have been about ? Keep the brig off, Mr. Mulford. 
We are in no particular hurry to reach Throg’s, you’ll remem¬ 
ber, sir.” 

Tier gave an account of his proceedings, which could have 
no interest with the reader. His narrative was any thing but 
very clear, and it was delivered in a cracked, octave sort of a 
voice, such as little dapper people not unfrequently enjoy—tones 
between those of a man and a boy. The substance of the whole 
story was this. Tier had been left ashore, as sometimes hap¬ 
pens to sailors, and, by necessary connection, was left to shift 
for himself. After making some vain endeavors to rejoin his 
brig, he had shipped in one vessel after another, until he ac¬ 
cidentally found himself in the port of New York, at the same 
time as the Swash. He know’d he .never should be truly 


52 


JACK TIER. 


liappy ag’in until he could once more get aboard the old hussy, 
and had hurried up to the wharf, where he understood the brig 
was lying. As he came in sight, he saw she was about to 
cast off, and, dropping his clothes-bag, he had made the best 
of his way to the wharf, where the conversation passed that has 
been related. 

“ The gentleman on the wharf was about to take boat, to 
go through the Gate,” continued Tier, “ and so I begs a passage 
of him. He was good-natured enough to wait until 1 could 
find my bag, and as soon a’terwards as the men could gel tiieir 
grog we shoved off. The Molly was just getting in behind 
Blackwell’s as we left the wharf, and, having four good oars, 
and the shortest road, we come out into the Gate just ahead on 
you. My eye! what a place that is to go through in a boat, 
and on a strong flood ! The gentleman, who watched the brig 
as a cat watches a mouse, says you struck on the Pot, as he 
called it, but I says ‘ no,’ for the Molly Swash was never know’d 
to hit rock or shoal in my time aboard her.” 

“ And where did you quit that gentleman, and what has be¬ 
come of him ?” asked Spike. 

“ He put me ashore on that point above us, where I see’d a 
nigger with his skiff, who I thought would be willin’ to ’arn his 
quarter by giving me a cast alongside. So here I am, and a 
long pull I’ve had to get here.” 

As this was said. Jack removed his hat and wiped his brow 
with a handkerchief, which, if it had never seen better days, had 
doubtless been cleaner. After this, be looked about him, with 
an air not entirely free from exultation. 

This conversation had taken place in the gangway, a some¬ 
what public place, and Spike beckoned to his recruit to walk 
aft, where he might be questioned without being overheard. 

“ What became of the gentleman in the boat, as you call him ?” 
demanded Spike. 

“ He pulled ahead, seeming to be in a huiTy.” 

“ Do you know who he was ?” 


JACK TIER. 


53 


“ Not a bit of it. I never saw the man before, and he didn’t 
tell me his business, sir.” 

“ Had he any thing like a silver oar about him.” 

“ I saw nothing of the sort. Captain Spike, and knows nothing 
consarnina: him.” 

“ What sort of a boat was he in, and where did he get it ?” 

“ Well, as to the boat, sir, I can say a word, seein’ it was so 
much to my mind, and pulled so wonderful smart. It was a 
light ship’s yawl, with four oars, and came round the Hook just 
a’ter you had got the brig’s head round to the eastward. You 
must have seen it, I should think, though it kept close in with 
the wharves, as if it wished to be snug.” 

“ Then the gentleman, as you call him, expected that very 
boat to come and take him ofi’?” 

“ I suppose so, sir, because it did come and take him od*. 
That’s all I knows about it.” 

“ Had you no jaw with the gentleman ? You wasn’t mum 
the whole time you was in the boat with him ?” 

“Not a bit of it, sir. Silence and I doesn’t agree together 
long, and so we talked most of the time.” 

“ And what did the stranger say of the brig ?” 

“ Lord, sir, he catechized me like as if I had been a child at 
Sunday-school. He asked me how long I had sailed in her; 
what ports we’d visited, and what trade we’d been in. You 
can’t think the sight of questions he put, and how cur’ous he 
was for the answers.” 

“ And what did you tell him in your answers ? You said 
nothin’ about our call down on the Spanish Main, the time you 
were left ashore, I hope. Jack?” 

“Not I, sir. I played him off surprisin’ly. He got nothin’ 
to count upon out of me. Though I do owe the Molly Swash 
a grudge. I’m not goin’ to betray her.” 

“ You owe the Molly Swash a grudge! Have I taken an 
enemy on board her, then ?” 

Jack started, and seemed sorry he had said so much; while 


54 


JACK TIER. 


Spike eyed liim keenly. But the answer set all right. It was 
not given, however, without a moment for recollection. 

“ Oh, you knows what I mean, sir. I owe the old hussy a 
grudge for having desarted me like; but it’s only a love quarrel 
atween us. The old Molly will never come to harm by my 
means.” 

“ I hope not. Jack. The man that wongs the craft he sails 
in can never be a true-hearted sailor. Stick by your shi]) in all 
weathers is my rule, and a good rule it is to go by. But what 
did you tell the stranger?” 

“ Oh! I told him I’d been six v’y’ges in the brig. The first 
was to Madagascar—” 

“The d—1 you did ! Was he soft enough to believe that?” 

“ That’s more than I knows, sir. I can only tell you what I 
said; I don’t pretend to know how much he helievedP 

“ Heave ahead—what next ?” 

“ Then I told him we went to Kamschatka for gold-dust and 
ivory.” 

“ Whe-e-ew! What did the man say to that ?” 

“ Why, he smiled a bit, and a’ter that he seemed more cur’ous 
than ever to hear all about it. I told him my third v’y’ge was 
to Canton, with a cargo of broom-corn, where we took in 
salmon and dun-fish for home. A’ter that we went to Norway 
with ice, and brought back silks and money. Our next run was 
to the Havana, with salt and ’nips—” 

“ ’Nips ! What the devil be they ?” 

“Turnips, you knows, sir. We always calls ’em ’nips in 
cargo. At the Havana I told him we took in leather and jerked 
beef, and came home. Oh ! he got nothin’ from me. Captain 
Spike, that’ll ever do the brig a morsel of harm.” 

“ I am glad of that. Jack. You must know enough of the 
seas to understand that a close mouth is sometimes better for a 
vessel than a clean bill of health. Was there nothing said about 
the revenue steamer ?” 

“ Now you name her, sir, I believe there was. Ay, ay, sir, 


JACK TIER. 


55 


the gentleman did say, if the steamer fetched up to the west¬ 
ward of the fort, that he should overhaul her without diflSculty, 
on this flood.” 

“ That’ll do. Jack—that’ll do, my honest fellow. Go below, 
and tell Josh to take you into the cabin again, as steward’s 
mate. You’re rather too Dutch built, in your old age, to do 
much aloft.” 

One can hardly say whether Jack received this remark as 
complimentary, or not. He looked a little glum, for a man 
may he as round as a barrel, and wish to be thought genteel 
and slender; but he went below, in quest of Josh, without 
making any reply. 

The succeeding movements of Spike appeared to be much 
influenced by what he had just heard. He kept the brig under 
short canvas for near two hours, sheering about in the same 
place, taking care to tell every thing which spoke him that he 
had lost a man overboard. In this way, not only the tide, but 
the day itself, was nearly spent. About the time the former 
began to lose its strength, however, the fore-course and the 
mainsail were got on the brigantine, with the intention of 
working her up towards Whitestone, where the tides meet, 
and near which the revenue steamer was known to be anchor¬ 
ed. We say near, though it was, in fact, a mile or two more 
to the eastward, and close to the extremity of the Point. 

Notwithstanding these demonstrations of a wish to work to 
windward. Spike was really in no hurry. He had made up his 
mind to pass the steamer in the dark, if possible, and the night 
promised to favor him; but, in order to do this, it might be 
necessary not to come in sight of her at all; or, at least, not 
until the obscurity should in some measure conceal his rig 
and character. In consequence of this plan, the Swash 
made no great progress, even after she had got sail on her, 
on her old course. The wind lessened, too, after the sun 
went down, though it still hung to the eastward, or nearly 
ahead. As the tide gradually lost its force, moreover, the set 


56 


JACK TIER. 


to windward became less and less, until it finally disappeared 
altogether. 

There is necessarily a short reach in this passage, where it is 
always slack water, so far as current is concerned. This is pre¬ 
cisely where the tides meet, or, as has been intimated, at White- 
stone, which is somewhat more than a mile to the westward of 
Throgmorton’s Neck, near the point of which stands Fort 
Schuyler, one of the works recently erected for the defence of 
New York. Olf the pitch of the point, nearly mkl-channel, 
had the steamer anchored, a fact of which Spike had made 
certain, by going aloft himself, and reconnoitering her over the 
land, before it had got to be too dark to do so. He entertained 
no manner of doubt that this vessel was in waiting for him, 
and he well knew there was good reason for it; but he would 
not return and attempt the passage to sea by way of Sandy 
Hook. Ilis manner of regarding the whole matter was cool 
and judicious. The distance to the Hook was too great to be 
made in such short nights ere the return of day, and he had no 
manner of doubt he was watched for in that direction, as well as 
in this. Then he was particularly umvilling to show his craft 
at all in front of the town, even in the night. Moreover, he had 
ways of his own for effecting his purposes, and this Avas the very 
spot and time to put them in execution. 

While these things Avere floating in his mind, Mrs. Budd and 
her handsome niece Avere making preparations for passing the 
night, aided by Biddy Noon. The old lady Avas factotum, or 
factota, as it might be most classical to call her, though Ave are 
entirely Avithout authorities on the subject, and Avas just as self- 
complacent and ambitious of seaAvomauship beloAv decks, as she 
had been aboveboard. The effect, hoAvever, gave Spike great 
satisfaction, since it kept her out of sight, and left him more at 
liberty to carry out his OAvn plans. About nine, hoAvever, the 
good woman came on deck, intending to take a look at the 
weather, like a skilful marineress as she Avas, before she turned 
in. Not a little Avas she astonished at what she then and there 


JACK TIER. 


57 


beheld, as she whispered to Rose and Biddy, both of whom stuck 
close to her side, feeling the want of good pilotage, no doubt, in 
strange waters. 

The Molly Swash was still under her canvas, though very 
little sufficed for her present purposes. She was directly off 
Wliitestone, and was making easy stretches across the passage, 
or river, as it is called, having nothing set but her huge fore- 
and-aft mainsail and the jib. Under this sail she worked like 
a top, and Spike sometimes fancied she travelled too fast for his 
purposes, the night air having thickened the canvas as usual, 
until it “ held the wind as a bottle holds water.” There was 
nothing in this, however, to attract the particular attention of 
the shipmaster’s widow, a sail, more or less, being connected 
with observation much too critical for her schooling, nice as the 
last had been. She was surprised to find the men stripping the 
brig forward, and converting her into a schooner. Nor was this 
done in a loose and slovenly manner, under favor of the obscu¬ 
rity. On the contrary, it was so well executed that it might 
have deceived even a seaman under a noonday sun, provided 
the vessel were a mile or two distant. The manner in which 
the metamorphosis was made was as follows : the studding-sail 
booms had been taken off the topsail-yard, in order to shorten 
it to the eye, and the yard itself was swayed up about half-mast, 
to give it the appearance of a schooner’s fore-yard. The brig’s 
real lower yard was lowered on the bulwarks, while her royal 
yard was sent down altogether, and the topgallant-mast was 
lowered until the heel rested on the topsail yard, all of which, 
in the night, gave the gear forward very much the appearance 
of that of a fore-topsail schooner, instead of that of a half-rigged 
brig, as the craft really was. As the vessel carried a try-sail on 
her foremast, it answered very well, in the dark, to represent a 
schooner’s foresail. Several other little dispositions of this na¬ 
ture were made, about which it might weary the uninitiated to 
read, but which will readily suggest themselves to the mind of 
a sailor. 

3 ^ 


58 


JACK TIER. 


These alterations were far advanced when the females reap¬ 
peared on deck. They at once attracted their attention, and 
the captain’s widow felt the imperative necessity, as connected 
with her professional character, of proving the same. She soon 
found Spike, who was bustling around the deck, now looking 
around to see that his brig was kept in the channel, now and 
then issuing an order to complete her disguise. 

“Captain Spike, what can be the meaning of all these changes? 
The tamper of your vessel is so much altered, that I declare I 
should not have known her!” 

“ Is it, by George ! Then she is just in the state I want her 
to be in.” 

“ But why have you done it, and what does it all mean ?” 

“ Oh, Molly’s going to bed for the night, and she’s only un¬ 
dressing herself—that’s all.” 

“ Yes, Rosy dear, Captain Spike is right. I remember that 
my poor Mr. Budd used to talk about The Rose In Bloom hav¬ 
ing her clothes on, and her clothes off, just as if she was a bom 
woman ! But don’t you mean to navigate at all in the night, 
Captain Spike ? Or will the brig navigate without sails ?” 

“ That’s it—she’s just as good in the dark, under one sort of 
canvas, as under another. So, Mr. Mulford, we’ll take a reef in 
that mainsail; it will bring it nearer to the size of our new fore¬ 
sail, and seem more ship-shape and Brister fashion : then I think 
she’ll do, as the night is getting to be rather darkish.” 

“ Captain Spike,” said the boatswain, who had been set to 
look out for that particular change, “ the brig begins to feel the 
new tide, and sets to windward.” 

“ Let her go, then—now is as good a time as another. 
We’ve got to run the gantlet, and the sooner it is done the 
better.” 

As the moment seemed propitious, not only Mulford, but all the 
people, heard this order with satisfaction. The night was star¬ 
light, though not very clear at that. Objects on the water, how¬ 
ever, were more visible than those on the land, while those on the 


JACK TIER. 


o9 


last could be seen well enough, even from the brig, though in 
confused and somewhat shapeless piles. When the Swash was 
brought close by the wind, she had just got into the last reach 
of the “ river,” or that which runs parallel with the Neck for 
near a mile, doubling where the Sound expands itself, gradu¬ 
ally, to a breadth of many leagues. Still the navigation at the 
entrance of this end of the Sound was intricate and somewhat 
dangerous, rendering it indispensable for a vessel of any size to 
make a crooked course. The wind stood at southeast, and was 
very scant to lay through the reach with, while the tide was so 
slack as barely to possess a visible current at that j^lace. The 
steamer lay directly off the Point, mid-channel, as mentioned, 
showing lights, to mark her position to any thing which might 
be passing in or out. The great thing was to get by her with¬ 
out exciting her suspicion. As all on board, the females ex¬ 
cepted, knew what their captain was at, the attempt was made 
amid an anxious and profound silence ; or, if any one spoke at 
all, it was only to give an order in a low tone, or its answer in 
a simple monosyllable. 

Although her aunt assured her that every thing which had 
been done already, and which was now doing, was quite in rule, 
the quick-eyed and quick-witted Rose noted these unusual pro¬ 
ceedings, and had an opinion of her own on the subject. Spike 
had gone forward, and posted himself on the weather-side of the 
forecastle, where he could get the clearest look ahead, and there 
he remained most of the time, leaving Mulford on the quarter¬ 
deck, to work the vessel. Perceiving this, she managed to get 
near the mate without attracting' her aunt’s attention, and at 
the same time out of ear-shot. 

“ Why is everybody so still and seemingly so anxious, Harry 
Mulford ?” she asked, speaking in a low tone herself, as if de¬ 
sirous of conforming to a common necessity; “ is there any 
new danger here ? I thought the Gate had been passed alto¬ 
gether, some hours ago ?” 

“So it has. D’ye see that large dark mass on the water 


60 


JACK TIER. 


off the Point, which seems almost as huge as the fort, with 
lights above it ? That is a revenue steamer which came out of 
York a few hours before us. We wish to get past her without 
being troubled by any of her questions.” 

“ And what do any in this brig care about her questions ? 
They can be answered, surely.” 

“ Ay, ay. Rose—they may be answered, as you say, but the 
answers sometimes are unsatisfactory. Captain Spike, for some 
reason or other, is uneasy, and would rather not have any thing 
to say to her. He has the greatest aversion to speaking the 
smallest craft when on a coast.” 

“ And that’s the reason he has undressed his Molly, as he 
calls her, that he might not be known.” 

Mulford turned his head quickly towards his companion, as 
if surprised by her quickness of apprehension; but he had too 
just a sense of his duty to make any reply. Instead of pursuing 
the discourse, he adroitly contrived to change it, by pointing 
out to Rose the manner in which they were getting on, which 
seemed to be very successfully. 

Although the Swash was under much reduced canvas, she 
glided along with great ease and with considerable rapidity of 
motion. The heavy night air kept her canvas distended, and 
the Weatherly set of the tide, trifling as it yet was, pressed her 
up against the breeze, so as to turn all to account. It was 
apparent enough, by the manner in which objects on the land 
were passed, that the crisis was fast approaching. Rose rejoined 
her aunt, in order to await the result, in nearly breathless ex¬ 
pectation. At that moment, she would have given the world 
to be safe on shore. This wish was not the consequence of any 
constitutional timidity, for Rose was much the reverse from 
timid, but it was the fruit of a newly-awakened and painful, 
though still vague, suspicion. Happy, thrice happy was it for one 
of her naturally conflding and guileless nature, that distrust was 
thus opportunely awakened, for she was without a guardian com¬ 
petent to advise and guide her youth, as circumstances required. 


JACK TIER. 


61 


The brig was not long in reaching the passage that opened 
to the Sound. It is probable she did this so much the sooner 
because Spike kept her a little off the wind, with a view of not 
passing too near the steamer. At this point, the direction of the 
passage changes at nearly a right angle, the revenue steamer 
lying on a line with the Neck, and leaving a sort of bay, in the 
angle, for the Swash to enter. The land was somewhat low in 
all directions but one, and that was by drawing a straight line 
from the Point, through the steamer, to the Long Island shore. 
On the latter, and in that quarter, rose a bluff of considerable 
elevation, with deep water quite near it; and, under the shadows 
of that bluff. Spike intended to perform his nicest evolutions. 
He saw that the revenue vessel had let her fires go down, and 
that she was entirely without steam. Under canvas, he had 
no doubt of beating her hand over hand, could he once fairly 
get to windward; and then she was at anchor, and would lose 
some time in getting under way, should she even commence a 
pursuit. It was all-important, therefore, to gain as much to 
windward as possible, before the people of the government vessel 
took the alarm. 

There can be no doubt that the alterations made on board the 
Swash served her a very good turn on this occasion. Although 
the night could not be called positively dark, there was sufficient 
obscurity to render her hull confused and indistinct at any dis¬ 
tance, and this so much the more when seen from the steamer 
outside, or between her and the land. All this Spike very well 
understood, and largely calculated on. In effect he was not 
deceived ; the look-outs on board the revenue craft could trace 
little of the vessel that was approaching beyond the spars and 
sails which rose above the shores, and these seemed to be the 
spars and sails of a common fore-topsail schooner. As this was 
not the sort of craft for which they were on the watch, no sus¬ 
picion was awakened, nor did any reports go from the quarter¬ 
deck to the cabin. The steamer had her quarter watches, and 
officers of the deck, like a vessel of war, the discipline of which 


G2 


JACK TIER. 


was fairly enough imitated; but even a man-of-war may be 
overreached on an occasion. 

Spike was only great in a crisis, and then merely as a seaman. 
He understood his calling to its minutiae, and he understood the 
Molly Swash better than he understood any other craft that 
floated. For more than twenty years had he sailed her, and 
the careful parent does not better understand the humors of the 
child, than he understood exactly what might be expected 
from his brig. His satisfaction sensibly increased, thei'efore, as 
she stole along the land, towards the angle mentioned, without 
a sound audible but the gentle gurgling of the water, stirred by 
the stem, and which sounded like the ripple of the gentlest 
wave, as it washes the shingle of some placid beach. 

As the brig drew nearer to the bluff, the latter brought the 
wind more ahead, as respected the desired course. This was 
unfavorable, but it did not disconcert her watchful commander. 

“ Let her come round, Mr. Mulford,” said this pilot-captain, in 
a low voice ; “ we are as near in as we ought to go.” 

The helm was put down, the head sheets started, and away 
into the wind shot the Molly Swash, fore-reaching famously in 
stays, and, of course, gaining so much on her true course. In 
a minute she was round, and filled on the other tack. Spike 
was now so near the land, that he could perceive the tide was 
beginning to aid him, and that his weatherly set was getting to 
be considerable. Delighted at this, he walked aft, and told 
Mulford to go about again as soon as the vessel • had sufficient 
way to make sure of her in stays. The mate inquired if he did 
not think the revenue people might suspect something, unless 
they stood further out towards mid-channel; but Spike remind¬ 
ed him that they would be apt to think the schooner was 
working up under the southern shore, because the ebb first 
made there. This reason satisfied Mulford, and, as soon as they 
were half-way between the bluff and the steamer, the Swash 
was again tacked, with her head to the former. This manoeuvre 
was executed when the brig was about two hundred yards from 


JACK TIER. 


G3 


the steamer, a distance that was sufficient to preserve, under all 
the circumstances, the disguise she had assumed. 

“ They do not suspect us, Harry,” whispered Spike to his 
mate. “We shall get to windward of ’em, as sartain as the 
breeze stands. That boatin’ gentleman might as w'ell have staid 
at home, as for any good his hurry done him, or his employers!” 

“ Whom do you suppose him to be. Captain Spike ?” 

“ Who ? A feller that lives by his own wicked deeds. No 
matter who he is. An informer, perhaps. At any rate, he is 
not the man to outwit the Molly Swash, and her old, stupid, 
foolish master and owner, Stephen Spike. Luff, Mr. Mulford, 
luff. Now’s the time to make the most of your leg—luff her 
up and shake her. She is setting to windward fast, the ebb is 
sucking along that bluff like a boy at a molasses hogshead. All 
she can drift on this tack is clear gain ; there is no hurry, so 
long as they are asleep aboard the steamer. That’s it—make a 
half-board at once, but take care and not come round. As soon 
as we are fairly clear of the bluff, and open the bay that makes 
up behind it, we shall get the wind more to the southward, and 
have a fine long leg for the next stretch. 

Of course Mulford obeyed, throwing the brig up into the 
wind, and allowing her to set to windward, but filling again on 
the same tack, as ordered. This, of course, delayed her progress 
towards the land, and protracted the agony, but it carried the 
vessel in the direction she most wished to go, while it kept her 
not only end oil to the steamer, but in a line with the bluff, and 
consequently in the position most favorable to conceal her true 
character. Presently, the bay mentioned, which was several 
miles deep, opened darkly towards the south, and the wind came 
directly out of it, or more to the southward. At this moment 
the Swash was near a quarter of a mile from the steamer, and 
all that distance dead to windward of her, as the breeze came 
out of the bay. Spike tacked his vessel himself now, and got 
her head up so high that she brought the steamer on her lee 
quarter, and looked away towards the island which lies north- 


64 


JACK TIER. 


wardly from the Point, and quite near to which all vessels of 
any draught of water are compelled to pass, even with the 
fairest winds. 

“ Shake the reef out of the mainsail, Mr. Mulford,” said Spike, 
when the Swash was fairly in motion again on this advantageous 
tack. “ We shall pass well to windward of the steamer, and 
may as well begin to open our cloth again.” 

“ Is it not a little too soon, sir ?” Mulford ventured to remon¬ 
strate ; “ the reef is a large one, and will make a great difference 
in the size of the sail.” 

“They’ll not see it at this distance. No, no, sir; shake out 
the reef, and sway away on the topgallant-mast rope; I’m for 
bringing the Molly Swash into her old shape again, and make 
her look handsome once more.” 

“Do you dress the brig, as well as undress her, o’ nights. 
Captain Spike ?” inquired the shipmaster’s relict, a little puzzled 
with this fickleness of purpose. “ I do not believe my poor Mr. 
Budd ever did that.” 

“Fashions change, madam, with the times—ay, ay, sir— 
shake out the reef, and sway away on that mast-rope, boys, as 
soon as you have manned it. We’ll convart our schooner into 
a brig again.” 

As these orders were obeyed, of course, a general bustle now 
took place. Mulford soon had the reef out, and the sail dis¬ 
tended to the utmost, while the topgallant-mast was soon up and 
Added. The next thing was to sway upon the fore-yard, and 
get that into its place. The people were busied at this duty, 
when a hoarse hail came across the water on the heavy night air. 

“ Biig ahoy !” was the call. 

“Sway upon that fore-yard,” said Spike, unmoved by this 
summons—“ start it, start it at once.” 

“ The steamer hails us, sir,” said the mate. 

“ Not she. She is hailing a brig; we are a schooner yet.” 

A moment of active exertion succeeded, during which the 
foi'e-yard went into its place. Then came a second hail. 


JACK TIER. 


65 


“ Schooner ahoy!” was the summons this time. 

“ The steamer hails us again, Captain Spike.” 

“ The devil a bit. We’re a brig now, and she hails a schooner. 
Come, boys, bestir yourselves, and get the canvas on Molly 
for’ard. Loose the fore-course before you quit the yard there, 
then up aloft and loosen every thing you can find.” 

All was done as ordered, and done rapidly, as is ever the 
case on board a well-ordered vessel when there is occasion for 
exertion. That occasion now appeared to exist in earnest; for, 
while the men were sheeting home the topsail, a flash of light 
illuminated the scene, when the roar of a gun came booming 
across the water, succeeded by the very distinct whistling of its 
shot. We regret that the relict of the late Captain Budd did 
not behave exactly as became a shipmaster’s widow, under fire. 
Instead of remaining silent and passive, even while frightened, 
as was the case with Rose, she screamed quite as loud as she 
had previously done that very day in Hell-Gate. It appeared 
to Spike, indeed, that practice was making her perfect; and, as 
for Biddy, the spirit of emulation became so powerful in her 
bosom, that, if any thing, she actually outshrieked her mistress. 
Hearing this, the widow made a second effort, and fairly recov¬ 
ered the ground some might have fancied she had lost. 

“ Oh! Captain Spike,” exclaimed the agitated widow, “ do 
not, do not—if you love me, do not let them fire again!” 

“ How am I to help it ?” asked the captain, a good deal to 
the point, though he overlooked the essential fact, that, by 
heaving-to, and waiting for the steamer’s boat to board him, he 
might have prevented a second shot, as completely as if he had 
the ordering of the whole affair. No second shot was fired, 
liowever. As it afterwards appeared, the screams of Mrs. Budd 
and Biddy were heard on board the steamer, the captain of 
which, naturally enough, supposing that the slaughter must be 
terrible where such ci*ies had arisen, was satisfied with the mischief 
he had already done, and directed his people to secure their gun, 
and go to the capstan-bars, in order to help lift the anchor. In 


06 


JACK TIER. 


a word, the revenue vessel was getting under way, man-of-war 
fashion, which means somewhat expeditiously. 

Spike understood the sounds that reached him, among which 
was the call of the boatswain, and he bestirred himself accord¬ 
ingly. Experienced as he was in chases and all sorts of nautical 
artifices, he very well knew that his situation was sufficiently 
critical. It would have been so, with a steamer at his heels,- in 
the open ocean; but, situated as he was, he was compelled to 
steer but one course, and to accept the wind on that course as 
it might offer. If he varied at all in his direction, it was only 
in a trifling way, though he did make some of these variations. 
Every moment was now precious, however, and he endeavored 
to improve the time to the utmost. He knew that he could 
greatly outsail the revenue vessel, under canvas, and some time 
would be necessary to enable her to get up her steam—half an 
hour at the very least. On that half hour, then, depended the 
fate of the Molly Swash. 

“ Send the booms on the yards, and set stun’sails at once, Mr. 
Mulford,” said Spike, the instant the more regular canvas was 
spread forward. “This wind will be free enough-for all but the 
lower stun’sail, and we must drive the brig on.” 

“Are we not looking up too high. Captain Spike? The 
Stepping-Stones are ahead of us, sir.” 

“ I know that very well, Mulford. But it’s nearly high water, 
and the brig’s in light trim, and we may rub and go. By mak¬ 
ing a short cut here, we shall gain a full mile on the steamer: 
that mile may save us.” 

“ Do you really think it possible to get away from that craft, 
which can always make a fair wind of it, in these narrow waters. 
Captain Spike ?” 

“ One don’t know, sir. Nothin’ is done without tryin’, and 
by tryin’ more is often done than was hoped for. I have a 
scheme in my head, and Providence may favor me in bringing 
it about.” 

Providence! The religionist quarrels with the philosopher, 


JACK TIER, 


67 


if the latter happen to remove this interposition of a higher 
Power, even so triflingly as by the intervention of secondary 
agencies, while the biggest rascal dignifies even his success by 
such phrases as Providential aid! But it is not surprising men 
should misunderstand terms, when they make such sad confusion 
in the acts which these terms are merely meant to represent. 
Spike had his Providence as well as a priest, and we dare say 
he often counted on its succor, with quite as rational grounds 
of dependence as many of the pharisees who are constantly 
exclaiming, “ The Temple of the Lord, the Temple of the Lord 
are these.” 

Sail was made on board the Swash with great rapidity, and 
the brig made a bold push at the Stepping-Stones. Spike was 
a capital pilot. He insisted if he could once gain sight of the 
spar that was moored on those rocks for a buoy, he should run 
with great confidence. The two lights were of great assistance, 
of course; but the revenue vessel could see these lights as well 
as the brig, and s/ie^ doubtless, had an excellent pilot on board. 
By the time the studding-sails were set on board the Swash, the 
steamer was aweigh, and her long line of peculiar sails became 
visible. Unfortunately for men who were in a hurry, she lay 
so much within the bluff as to get the wind scant, and her 
commander thought it necessary to make a stretch over to the 
southern shore, before he attempted to lay his course. When 
he was ready to tack, an operation of some time with a vessel 
of her great length, the Swash was barely visible in the obscurity, 
gliding off upon a slack bowline, at a rate which nothing but 
the damp night air, the ballast-trim of the vessel, united to her 
excellent sailing qualities, could have produced with so light a 
breeze. 

The first half hour took the Swash completely out of sight of 
the steamer. In that time, in truth, by actual superiority in 
sailing, by her greater state of preparation, and by the distance 
saved by a bold navigation, she had gained fully a league on 
her pursuer. But, while the steamer had lost sight of the Swash, 


68 


JACK TIER. 


the latter kept the former in view, and that by means of a sig¬ 
nal that was very portentous. She saw the light of the steam¬ 
er’s chimneys, and could form some opinion of her distance and 
position. 

It was about eleven o’clock when the Swash passed the light 
at Sands’ Point, close in with the land. The wind stood much 
as it had been. If there was a change at all, it was half a 
point more to the southward, and it was a little fresher. Such 
as it was. Spike saw he was getting, in that smooth water, 
quite eight knots o-ut of his craft, and he made his calculations 
thereon. As yet, and possibly for half an hour longer, he was 
gaining, and might hope to continue to gain on the steamer. 
Then her turn would come. Though no great traveller, it was 
not to be expected that, favored by smooth water and the 
breeze, her speed would be less than ten knots, while there was 
no hope of increasing his own without an increase of the wind. 
He might be five miles in advance, or six at the most; these six 
miles wo*uld be overcome in three hours of steaming, to a dead 
certainty, and. they might possibly be overcome much sooner. 
It was obviously necessary to resort to some other expei'iment 
than that of dead sailing, if an escape was to be effected. 

The Sound was now several miles in width, and Spike, at 
first, proposed to his mate to keep off dead before the wind, 
and by crossing over to the north shore, let the steamer 
pass ahead, and continue a bootless chase to the eastward. 
Several vessels, however, were visible in tli?e middle of the pas¬ 
sage, at distances varying from one to three miles, and Mulford 
pointed out the hopelessness of attempting to cross the sheet of 
open water, and expect to go unseen by the watchful eyes of 
the revenue people. 

“ What you say is true enough, Mr. Mulford,” answered Spike; 
after a moment of profound refiection, “ and every foot that they 
come nearer, the less Avill be our chance. But here is Hemp¬ 
stead Harbor a few leagues ahead; if we can reach that t)efore 
the blackguards close, we may do well enough. It is* a deep 


JACK TIER. 


69 


bay, and has high land to darken the view. I don’t think the 
brig could be seen at midnight by any thing outside, if she was 
once fairly up that water a mile or two.” 

“ That is our chance, sir!” exclaimed Mulford cheerfully. 
“ Ay, ay, I know the spot, and every thing is favorable—try that. 
Captain Spike; I’ll answer for it that we go clear.” 

Spike did try it. For a considerable time longer he stood 
on, keeping as close to the land as he thought it safe to run, 
and carrying every thing that would draw. But the steamer 
was on his heels, evidently gaining fast. Her chimneys gave 
out flames, and there was every sign that her people were in 
earnest. To those on board the Swash these flames seemed to 
draw nearer each instant, as indeed was the fact, and just as 
the breeze came fresher out of the opening in the hills, or the 
low mountains which surrounded the place of refuge in which 
they designed to enter, Mulford announced that by aid of the 
night-glass he could distinguish both sails and hull of their pur¬ 
suer. Spike took a look, and throwing down the instrument, 
in a way to endanger it, he ordered the studding-sails taken in. 
The men went aloft like cats, and worked as if they could 
stand in air. In a minute or two the Swash was under what 
Mrs. Budd might have called her “ attacking” canvas, and wfis 
close by the wind, looking on a good leg well up the harbor. 
The brig seemed to be conscious of the emergency, and glided 
ahead at capital speed. In five minutes she had shut in the 
flaming chimneys of the steamer. In five minutes more Spike 
tacked, to keep under the western side of the harbor, and out 
of sight as long as possible, and because he thought the breeze 
drew down fresher where he was than more out in the bay. 

All now depended on the single fact whether the brig had 
been seen from the steamer or not, before she hauled into the 
bay. If seen, she had probably been watched; if not seen, 
there were strong grounds for hoping that she might still escape. 
About a quarter of an hour after Spike hauled up, the burning 
chimneys came again into view. The brig was then half a 



70 


JACK TIER. 


league within the bay, with a fine dark background of hills to 
throw her into shadow. Spike ordered every thing taken in 
but the trysail, under which the brig was left to set slowly over 
towards the western side of the harbor. He now rubbed his 
hands with delight, and pointed out to Mulford the circumstance 
that the steamer kept on her course directly athwart the harbor’s 
mouth! Had she seen the Swash, no doubt she would have 
turned into the bay also. Nevertheless, an anxious ten minutes 
succeeded, during which the revenue vessel steamed fairly past, 
and shut in her flaming chimneys again by the eastern head¬ 
lands of the estuary. 


JACK TIER. 


71 


CHAPTER III. 

“The western wave was all a-flame, 

The day was well-nigh done, 

Almost upon the western wave 
Rested the broad bright sun; 

When that strange ship drove suddenly 
Betwixt us and the sun.” 

Thb Ancient Maeineb. 

At that hour, on the succeeding morning, when the light of 
day is just beginning to chase away the shadows of night, the 
Molly Swash became visible within the gloom of the high land 
which surrounds so much of the bay of Hempstead, under easy 
sail, backing and filling, in order to keep within her hiding- 
place, until a look could be had at the state of things without. 
Half an hour later, she was so near the entrance of the estuary, 
as to enable the lookouts aloft to ascertain that the coast was 
clear, when Spike ordered the helm to be put up, and the brig 
to be kept away to her course. At this precise moment. Rose 
appeared on deck, refreshed by the sleep of a quiet night, and 
with cheeks tinged with a color even more delicate than that which 
was now glowing in the eastern sky, and almost as brilliant. 

“ We stopped in this bit of a harbor for the night. Miss Rose, 
that is all,” said Spike, observing that his fair passenger was 
looking about her, in some little surprise, at finding the vessel 
so near the land, and seemingly so much out of her proper 
position. “ Yes, we always do that, when we first start on a 
v’y’ge, and before the brig gets used to travelling—don’t we, 
Mr. Mulford?” 

Mr. Mulford, who knew how hopeless was the attempt to 
mystify Rose, as one might mystify her credulous and weak- 
minded aunt, and who had no disposition to deal any way but 


12 


JACK TIER. 


fairly by the beautiful, and in one sense now helpless young 
creature before him, did not see fit to make any reply. Offend 
Spike he did not dare to do, more especially under present cir¬ 
cumstances; and mislead Rose he would not. He affected 
not to hear the question, therefore, but issuing an order about 
the head-sails, he walked forward as if to see it executed. Rose 
herself was not under as much restraint as the young mate. 

“ It is convenient. Captain Spike,” she coolly answered for 
Mulford, “ to have stopping-places for vessels that are wearied, 
and I remember the time when my uncle used to tell me of 
such matters, very much in the same vein; but, it was before I 
was twelve years old.” 

Spike hemmed, and he looked a little foolish, but Clench, the 
boatswain, coming aft to say something to him in confidence, 
just at that moment, he was enabled to avoid the awkwardness 
of attempting to explain. This man Clench, or Clinch, as the 
name was pronounced, was deep in the captain’s secrets; far 
more so than was his mate, and would have been filling Mul- 
ford’s station at that very time, had he not been hopelessly 
ignorant of navigation. On the present occasion, his business 
was to point out to the captain two or three lines of smoke 
that were visible above the water of the Sound, in the eastern 
board; one of which he was apprehensive might turn out to 
be the smoke of the revenue craft, from which they had so re¬ 
cently escaped. 

“ Steamers are no rarities in Long Island Sound, Clench,” 
observed the captain, levelling his glass at the most suspected of 
the smokes. “ That must be a Providence, or Stonington chap, 
coming west with the Boston train.” 

“ Either of them would have been further west by this time. 
Captain Spike,” returned the doubting, but watchful boatswain. 
“ It’s a large smoke, and I fear it is the revenue fellow coming 
back, after having had a look well to the eastward, and satis¬ 
fying himself that we are not to be had in that quarter.” 

Spike growled out his assent to the possibility of such a con- 


JACK TIER. 


73 


jecture, and promised vigilance. This satisfied his subordinate 
for the moment, and he walked forward, or to the place where 
he belonged. In the mean time, the widow came on deck, 
smiling, and snufling the salt air, and ready to be delighted with 
any thing that was maritime. 

“ Good morning. Captain Spike,” she cried. “ Are we in the 
oflSng, yet?—you know I desired to be told when we are in 
the offing, for I intend to write a letter to my poor Mr. Budd’s 
sister, Mrs. Sprague, as soon as we get to the offing.” 

“ What is the offing, aunt ?” inquired the handsome niece. 

“ Why yow have hardly been at sea long enough to under¬ 
stand me, child, should I attempt to explain. The offing, how¬ 
ever, is the place where the last letters are always written to the 
owners, and to friends ashore. The term comes, I suppose, 
from the circumstance that the vessel is about to be off, and it 
is natural to think of those we leave behind, at such a moment. 
I intend to write to your aunt Sprague, my dear, the instant I 
hear we are in the ofling; and what is more, I intend to make 
yow my amanuensis.” 

“ But how will the letter be sent, aunty ?—I have no more 
objection to writing than any one else, but I do not see how the 
letter is to be sent. Really, the sea is a curious region, with its 
stopping-places for the night, and its offings to write letters at!” 

“ Yes, it’s all as you say. Rose—a most remarkable region is 
the sea! You’ll admire it, as I admire it, when you come to 
know it better; and as your poor uncle admired it, and as Cap¬ 
tain Spike admires it, too. As for the letters, they can be sent 
ashore by the pilot, as letters are always sent.” 

“But, aunty, there is no pilot in the Swash—for Captain 
Spike refused to take one on board.” 

“ Rose !—you don’t understand what you are talking about! 
No vessel ever yet sailed without a pilot, if indeed any can. It’s 
opposed to the law, not to have a pilot; and now I remember 
to have heard your dear uncle say it wasn’t a voyage if a vessel 
didn’t take away a pilot.” 


4 


14 


JACK TIER. 


“ But if they take them away, aunty, how can they send the 
letters ashore by them ?” 

“ Poll! poh ! child; you don’t know what you are saying; 
but you’ll overlook it, I hope. Captain Spike, for Rose is quick, 
and will soon learn to know better. As if letters couldn’t be 
sent ashore by the pilot, though he was a hundred thousand 
miles from land! But, Captain Spike, you must let me know 
when we are about to get off the Sound, for I know that the 
pilot is always sent ashore with his letters, before the vessel gets 
off the Sound.” 

“ Yes, yes,” returned the captain, a little mystified by the 
widow, though he knew her so well, and understood her so 
well—“ you shall know, ma’am, when we get off soundings, for 
I suppose that is what you mean.” 

“ What is the difference ? Off the Sound, or off the sound¬ 
ings, of course must mean the same thing. But, Rosy, we will 
go below and write to your aunt at once, for I see a lighthouse 
yonder, and lighthouses are always put just off the soundings.” 

Rose, who always suspected her aunt’s nautical talk, though 
she did not know how to correct it, was not sorry to put an 
end to it, now, by going below, and spreading her own writing 
materials, in readiness to write as the other dictated. Biddy 
Noon was present, sewing on some of her own finery. 

“Now write as I tell you. Rose,” commenced the widow: 

“ My dear sister Sprague—Here we are, at last, just off the 
soundings, with lighthouses all around us, and so many capes 
and islands in sight, that it does seem as if the vessel never 
could find its way through them all. Some of these islands 
must be the West Indies—” 

“ Aunty, that can never be!” exclaimed Rose—“ we left New 
York only yesterday.” 

“ What of that ? Had it been old times, I grant you several 
days might be necessary to get a sight of the West Indies, but, 
now, when a letter can be written to a friend in Boston, and an 
answer received in half an hour, it requires no such time to go 


JACK TIER. 


75 


to the West Indies. Besides, what other islands are there in 
this part of the world ? They can’t be England—” 

“ No—no,” said Rose, at once seeing it would be preferable 
to admit they were the West Indies; so the letter went on: 

“ Some of these islands must be the West Indies, and it is 
high time we saw some of them, for we are nearly off the 
Sound, and the lighthouses are getting to be quite numerous. 
I think we have already seen four since we left the wharf. But, 
my dear sister Sprague, you will be delighted to hear how much 
better Rose’s health is already becoming—” 

“ My health, aunty! Why, I never knew an ill day in my 
lifel” 

“ Don’t tell me that, my darling ; I know too well what all 
these deceptive appearances of health amount to. I would not 
alarm you for the world. Rosy dear, but a careful parent—and 
I’m your parent in affection, if not by nature—but a careful 
parent’s eye is not to be deceived. I know you look well, but 
you are ill, my child; though. Heaven be praised, the sea air 
and hydropathy are already doing you a monstrous deal of 
good. 

As Mrs. Budd concluded, she wiped her eyes, and appeared 
really glad that her niece had a less consumptive look than 
when she embarked. Rose sat gazing at her aunt, in mute 
astonishment. She knew how much and truly she was beloved, 
and that induced her to be more tolerant of her connection’s 
foibles than even duty demanded. Feeling was blended with 
her respect, but it was almost too much for her to learn that this 
long, and in some respects painful voyage, was undertaken on 
her account, and without the smallest necessity for it. The 
vexation, however, would have been largely increased, but for 
certain free communications that had occasionally occurred be¬ 
tween her and the handsome mate, since the moment of her 
coming on board the brig. Rose knew that Harry Mulford 
loved her, too, for he had told her as much with a seaman’s 
frankness; and though she had never let him know that his 


16 


JACK TIER. 


partiality was returned, her woman’s heart was fast inclining 
towards him, with all her sex’s tenderness. This made the mis¬ 
take of her aunt tolerable^ though Rose was exceedingly vexed 
it should ever have occurred. 

“ Why, my dearest aunt,” she cried, “ they told me it was on 
your account that this voyage was undertaken!” 

“ I know they did, poor dear Rosy, and that was in order not 
to alarm you. Some persons of delicate constitutions—” 

“ But my constitution is not in the least delicate, aunt; on the 
contrary, it is as good as possible ; a blessing for which, I trust, I 
am truly grateful. I did not know but you might be suffering, 
though you do look so well, for they all agreed in telling me you 
had need of a sea voyage.” 

“ I, a subject for hydropathy! Why, child, water is no more 
necessary to me than it is to a cat.” 

“ But going to sea, aunt, is not hydropathy—” 

“ Don’t say that. Rosy ; do not say that, my dear. It is hy¬ 
dropathy on a large scale, as Captain Spike says ; and when he 
gets us into blue water, he has promised that you shall have all 
the benefits of the treatment.” 

Rose was silent and thoughtful; after which she spoke quickly, 
like one to whom an important thought had suddenly occurred. 

“ And Captain Spike, then, was consulted in my case ?” she 
asked. 

“ He was, my dear, and you have every reason to be grateful 
to him. He was the first to discover a change in your appear¬ 
ance, and to suggest a sea voyage. Marine hydropathy, he said, 
he was sure would get you up again; for Captain Spike thinks 
your constitution good at the bottom, though the high color you 
have proves too high a state of habitual excitement.” 

“ Was Dr. Monson consulted at all, aunt?” 

“ Not at all. You know the doctors are all against hydropathy 
and mesmerism, and the magnetic telegraph, and every thing 
that is new; so we thought it best not to consult him.” 

“ And my aunt Sprague ?” 


JACK TIER. 


77 


“ Yes, she was consulted after every thing was settled, and 
when I knew her notions could not undo what had been already 
done. But she is a seaman’s widow, as well as myself, and 
has a great notion of the virtue of sea air.” 

“ Then it would seem that Doctor Spike was the principal 
adviser in my case !” 

“ I own that he was. Rosy dear. Captain Spike was brought 
y<5ur uncle, who has often told me what a thorough sea¬ 
man he was. ‘ There’s Spike, now,’ he said to me one day, ‘ he 
can almost make his brig talk’—this very brig, too, your uncle 
meant. Rosy, and, of course, one of the best vessels in the world 
to take hydropathy in.” 

“ Yes, aunty,” returned Rose, playing with the pen, while her 
air proved how little her mind was in her words. “ Well, what 
shall I say next to my aunt Sprague ?” 

“ Rose’s health is already becoming conjirmed^^ resumed the 
widow, who thought it best to encourage her niece by as strong 
terms as she could employ, “ and I shall extol hydropathy to the 
skies, as long as I live. As soon as we reach our port of desti¬ 
nation, my dear sister Sprague, I shall write you a line to let 
you know it, by the magnetic telegraph—” 

“ But there is no magnetic telegraph on the sea, aunty,” in¬ 
terrupted Rose, looking up from the paper, with her clear, serene, 
blue eyes, expressing even her surprise, at this touch of the rel¬ 
ict’s ignorance. 

“ Don’t tell me that, Rosy, child, when everybody says the 
sparks will fly round the whole earth, just as soon as they will 
fly from New York to Philadelphia.” 

“ But they must have something to fly on, aunty; and the 
ocean will not sustain wires, or posts.” 

“ Well, there is no need of being so particular : if there is 
no telegraph, the letter must come by mail. You can say tele¬ 
graph, here, and when your aunt gets the letter, the post-mark 
will tell her how it came. It looks better to talk about tele¬ 
graphic communications, child.” 


78 


JACK TIER. 


Rose resumed her pen, and wrote, at her aunt’s dictation, as 
follows :—“ By the magnetic telegraph, when I hope to be able 
to tell you that our dear Rose is well. As yet, we both enjoy 
the ocean exceedingly; but when we get off the Sound, into 
blue water, and have sent the pilot ashore, or discharged him, I 
ought to say, which puts me in mind of telling you that a cannon 
was discharged at us only last night, and that the ball whistled 
so near me, that I heard it as plain as ever you heard Rose’s 
piano.” 

“ Had I not better first tell my aunt Sprague what is to be 
done when the pilot is discharged ?” 

“ No : tell her about the cannon that was discharged, first, 
and about the ball that I heard. I had almost forgot that ad¬ 
venture, which was a very remarkable one, was it not, Biddy ?” 

“ Indeed, Missus, and it was! and Miss Rose might put in the 
letter how we both screamed at that cannon, and might have 
been heard as plainly, every bit of it, as the ball.” 

“ Say nothing on the subject. Rose, or we shall never hear 
the last of it. So, darling, you may conclude in your own way, 
for I believe I have told your aunt all that comes to mind.” 

Rose did as desired, finishing the epistle in a very few words, 
for, rightly enough, she had taken it into her head there was 
no pilot to be discharged, and consequently that the letter would 
never be sent. Her short but frequent conferences with Mulford 
were fast opening her eyes, not to say her heart, and she was 
beginning to see Captain Spike in his true character, which 
was that of a great scoundrel. It is true, that the mate had 
not long judged his commander quite so harshly, but had rather 
seen his beautiful brig, and her rare qualities, in her owner and com¬ 
mander, than the man himself; but jealousy had quickened his ob¬ 
servation of late, and Stephen Spike had lost ground sensibly with 
Harry Mulford, within the last week. Two or three times before, 
the young man had thought of seeking another berth, on account 
of certain distrusts of Spike’s occupations ; but he was poor, and 
so long as he remained in the Swash, Harry’s opportunities of 


JACK TIER. 


79 


meeting Rose were greatly increased. This circumstance, indeed, 
was the secret of his still being in the “Molly,” as Spike usually 
called his craft; the last voyage having excited suspicions that 
were rather of a delicate nature. Then the young man really 
loved the brig, which, if she could not be literally made to talk, 
could be made to do almost every thing. A vessel, and a small 
vessel, too, is rather contracted as to space ; but those who wish 
to converse can contrive to speak together often, even in such 
narrow limits. Such had been the fact with Rose Budd and 
the handsome mate. Twenty times since they sailed, short as 
that time was, had Mulford contrived to ^t so near to Rose, as 
to talk with her unheard by others. It is true, that he seldom 
ventured to do this so long as the captain was in sight—but 
Spike was often below, and opportunities were constantly occur¬ 
ring. It was in the course of these frequent but brief conver¬ 
sations, that Harry had made certain dark hints touching the 
character of his commander, and the known recklessness of his 
proceedings. Rose had taken the alarm, and fully comprehend¬ 
ing her aunt’s mental imbecility, her situation was already giv¬ 
ing her great uneasiness. She had some undefined hopes from 
the revenue steamer; though, strangely enough as it appeared 
to her, her youngest and most approved suitor betrayed a strong 
desire to escape from that craft, at the very moment he was 
expressing his apprehensions on account of her presence in the 
brig. This contradiction arose from a certain esprit de corps, 
which seldom fails, more or less, to identify the mariner with 
his ship. 

But the writing was finished, and the letter sealed with wax, 
Mrs. Budd being ^uite as particular in that ceremony as Lord 
Nelson, when the females again repaired on deck. They found 
Spike and his mate sweeping the eastern part of the Sound with 
their glasses, with a vicfvv to look out for enemies; or, what to 
them, just then, was much the same thing, government craft. 
In this occupation. Rose was a little vexed to see that Mulford 
was almost as much interested as Spike himself, the love of his 


80 


JACK TIER. 


vessel seemingly overcoming his love for her, if not his love of 
the right; she knew of no reason, however, why the captain 
should dread any other vessel, and felt sufficiently provoked to 
question him a little on the subject, if it were only to let him 
see that the niece was not as completely his dupe as the aunt. 
She had not been on deck five minutes, therefore, during which 
time several expressions had escaped the two sailors touching 
their apprehensions of vessels seen in the distance, ere she com¬ 
menced her inquiries. 

“ And why should we fear meeting with other vessels ?” Rose 
plainly demanded—‘‘here in Long Island Sound, and within 
the power of the laws of the country 

“ Fear!” exclaimed Spike, a little startled, and a good deal 
surprised at this straight-forward question—“ Fear, Miss Rose ? 
You do not think we are afraid, though there are many reasons 
why we do not wish to be spoken by certain craft that are 
hovering about. In the first place, you know it is war-time—I 
suppose you know. Madam Budd, that America is at war with 
Mexico 

“ Certainly,” answered the widow, with dignity ; “ and that 
is a sufficient reason. Rose, why one vessel should chase, and 
another should run. If you had heard your poor uncle relate, 
as I have done, all his chasings and runnings away, in the war¬ 
times, child, you would understand these things better. Why, 
I’ve heard your uncle say that, in some of his long voyages, he 
has run thousands and thousands of miles, with sails set on both 
sides, and all over his ship !” 

“ Yes, aunty, and so have I, but that was ‘ running before the 
wind,’ as he used to call it.” 

“ I s’pose, however. Miss Rose,” put in Sj^e, who saw that 
the niece would soon get the better of the aunt—“ I s’pose, 
Miss Rose, that you’ll acknowledge that America is at war with 
Mexico ?” 

“ I am sorry to say that such is the fact, but I remember to 
have heard you say, yourself. Captain Spike, when my aunt was 


JACK TIER. 


81 


induced to undertake this voyage, that you did not consider 
there was the smallest danger from any Mexicans.” 

“ Yes, you did. Captain Spike,” added the aunt—“ you did 
say there was no danger from Mexicans.” 

“ Nor is there a bit. Madam Budd, if Miss Rose and your 
honored self will only hear me. There is no danger, because 
the brig has the heels of any thing Mexico can send to sea. 
She has sold her steamers, and as for any thing else under her 
flag, I would not care a straw.” 

“ The steamer from which we ran, last evening, and which 
actually fired oft’ a cannon at us, was not Mexican, but American,” 
said Rose, with a pointed manner that put Spike to his trumps. 

“ Oh, that steamer,” he stammered—“ that was a race—only a 
race. Miss Rose, and I wouldn’t let her come near me, for the 
world. I should never hear the last of it, in the insurance offices, 
and on ’change, did I let her overhaul us. You see. Miss Rose— 
you see. Madam Budd—” Spike ever found it most convenient 
to address his mystifying discourse to the aunt, in preference to 
addressing it to the niece—“ You see. Madam Budd, the master 
of that craft and I are old cronies—sailed together when boys, 
and set great store by each other. We met only last evening, 
just a’ter I had left your own agreeable mansion. Madam Budd, 
and says he, ‘ Spike, when do you sail V ‘ To-morrow’s flood, 
Jones,’ says I—his name is Jones—Peter Jones, and as good a 
fellow as ever lived. ‘ Do you go by the Hook, or by Hell-Gate—’ ” 

“Hurl-Gate, Captain Spike, if you please—or Whirl-Gate, 
which some people think is the true sound ; but the other way 
of saying it is awful.” 

“ Well, the captain, my old master, always called it Hell- 
Gate, and I learned the trick from him—” 

“ I know he did, and so do all sailors; but genteel people, 
now-a-days, say nothing but Hurl-Gate, or Whirl-Gate.” 

Rose smiled at this, as did Mulford; but neither said any 
thing, the subject having once before been up between them. 
As for ourselves, we are still so old-fashioned as to say, and write, 

4 ^ 


82 


JACK TIER. 


Hell-Gate, and intend so to do, in spite of all the Yankees that 
have yet passed through it, or who ever shall pass through it, and 
that is saying a great deal. We do not like changing names to 
suit their uneasy spirits. 

“ Call the place Hurl-Gate, and go on with your story,” said 
the widow, complacently. 

“ Yes, Madam Budd—‘ Do you go by the Hook, or by Whirl- 
Gate?’ said Jones. ‘By Whirl-a-Gig-Gate,’ says 1. ‘Well,’ 
says he, ‘ I shall go through the Gate myself, in the course of 
the morning. We may meet somewhere to the eastward, and, 
if we do. I’ll bet you a beaver,’ says he, ‘ that I show you my 
stern.’ ‘ Agreed,’ says I, and we shook hands upon it. That’s 
the whole history of our giving the steamer the slip, last night, 
and of my not wishing to let her speak me.” 

“ But you went into a bay, and let her go past you,” said Rose, 
coolly enough as to manner, but with great point as to substance. 
“Was not that a singular way of winning a race?” 

“ It does seem so. Miss Rose, but it’s all plain enough, when 
understood. I found that steam was too much for sails, and I 
stood up into the bay to let them run past us, in hopes they 
would never find out the trick. I care as little for a hat as any 
man, but I do care a good deal about having it reported on 
’change that the Molly was beat, by even a steamer.” 

This ended the discourse for the moment. Clench again hav¬ 
ing something to say to his captain in private. 

“ How much of that explanation am I to believe, and how 
much disbelieve ?” asked Rose the instant she was left alone 
with Harry. “ If it be all invention, it was a ready and in¬ 
genious story.” 

“No part of it is true. He no more expected that the steamer 
would pass through Hell-Gate, than I expected it myself. There 
was no bet, or race, therefore; but it was our wish to avoid 
Uncle Sam’s cruiser, that was all.” 

“ And why should you wish any such thing ?” 

“ On my honor, I can give you no better reason, so far as I 


JACK TIER. 


83 


am concerned, than the fact that, wishing to keep clear of her, I 
do not like to be overhauled. Nor can I tell you why Spike is 
so much in earnest in holding the revenue vessel at arm’s length; 
I know he dislikes all such craft, as a matter of course, but I can 
see no particular reason for it just now. A more innocent cargo 
was never stuck into a vessel’s hold.” 

“What is it?” 

“ Flour; and no great matter of that. The brig is not half 
full, being just in beautiful ballast trim, as if ready for a race. 
I can see no suflScient reason, beyond native antipathy, why 
Captain Spike should wish to avoid any craft, for it is humbug 
his dread of a Mexican, and least of all, here, in Long Island 
Sound. All that story about Jones is a tub for whales.” 

“ Thank you for the allusion ; my aunt and myself being the 
whales.” 

“ You know I do mean —can mean nothing. Rose, that is dis¬ 
respectful to either yourself or your aunt.” 

Rose looked up, and she looked pleased. Then she mused in 
silence, for some time, when she again spoke. 

“ Why have you remained another voyage with such a man, 
Harry ?” she asked, earnestly. 

“ Because, as his first officer, I have had access to your house, 
when I could not have had it otherwise; and because I have 
apprehended that he might persuade Mrs. Budd, as he had 
boasted to me it was his intention to do, to make this voyage.” 

Rose now looked grateful; and deeply grateful did she feel, 
and had reason to feel. Harry had concealed no portion of his 
history from her. Like herself, he was a shipmaster’s child, but 
one better educated and better connected than was customary for 
the class. His father had paid a good deal of attention to the 
youth’s early years, but had made a seaman of him, out of 
choice. The father had lost his all, however, with his life, in a 
shipwreck; and Haiiy was thrown upon his own resources, at the 
early age of twenty. He had made one or two voyages as a 
second mate, when chance threw him in Spike’s way, who. 


84 


JACK TIER. 


pleased with some evidences of coolness and skill, that he had 
shown in a foreign port, on the occasion of another loss, took 
him as his first officer; in which situation he had remained 
ever since, partly from choice and partly from necessity. On 
the other hand. Rose had a fortune ; by no means a large one, 
but several thousands in possession, from her own father, and as 
many more in reversion from her uncle. It was this money, 
taken in connection with the credulous imbecility of the aunt, 
that had awakened the cupidity, and excited the hopes of Spike. 
After a life of lawless adventure, one that had been checkered 
by every shade of luck, he found himself growing old, with 
his brig growing old with him, and little left besides his vessel 
and the sort of half cargo that was in her hold. Want of 
means, indeed, was the reason that the flour-barrels were not 
more numerous. 

Rose heard Mulford’s explanation favorably, as indeed she 
heard most of that which came from him, but did not renew 
the discourse. Spike’s conference with the boatswain just then 
terminating. The captain now came aft, and began to speak 
of the performances of his vessel in a way to show that he took 
great pride in them. 

“ We are travelling at the rate of ten knots. Madam Budd,” 
he said exultingly, “ and that will take us clear of the land, be¬ 
fore night shuts in ag’in. Montauk is a good place for an offing; 
I ask for no better.” 

“ Shall we then have two offings, this voyage. Captain Spike?” 
asked Rose, a little sarcastically. “ If we are in the offing now, 
and are to be in the offing when we reach Montauk, there must 
be two such places.” 

“ Rosy dear, you amaze me !” put in the aunt. “ There is 
no offing until the pilot is discharged, and when he’s discharged 
there is nothing but offing. It’s all offing. On the Sound, is 
the first great change that befalls a vessel as she goes to sea; 
then comes the offing; next the pilot is discharged—then—then 
—what comes next. Captain Spike ?” 


JACK TIER. 


85 


“ Then the vessel takes her departure—an old navigator like 
yourself, Madam Budd, ought not to forget the departure.” 

“ Quite true, sir. The departure is a very important portion 
of a seaman’s life. Often and often have I heard my poor dear 
Mr. Budd talk about his departures. His departures, and his 
offings, and his— 

“ Land-falls,” added Spike, perceiving that the shipmaster’s 
relict was a little at fault. 

“ Thank you, sir; the hint is quite welcome. His land-falls, 
also, were often in his mouth.” 

“ What is a land-fall, aunty ?” inquired Rose. “ It appears a 
strange term to be used by one who lives on the water.” 

“ Oh ! there is no end to the curiosities of sailors ! A ‘ land¬ 
fall,’ my dear, means a shipwreck, of course. To fall on the 
land, and a very unpleasant fall it is, when a vessel should keep 
on the water. I’ve heard of dreadful land-falls in my day, in 
which hundreds of souls have been swept into eternity, in an 
instant.” 

“ Yes; yes. Madam Budd—there are such accidents truly, 
and serious things be they to encounter,” answered Spike, 
hemming a little to clear his throat, as was much his practice 
whenever the widow ran into any unusually extravagant blun¬ 
der ; “ yes, serious things to encounter. But the land-fall that 
I mean is a different sort of thing; being, as you well know, 
what we say when we come in sight of land, a’ter a v’y’ge; or, 
meaning the land we may happen first to see. The departure 
is the beginning of our calculation when we lose sight of the 
last cape or headland, and the land-fall closes it, by letting us 
know where we are at the other end of our journey, as you 
probably remember.” 

“ Is there not such a thing as clearing out in navigation ?” 
asked Rose, quickly, willing to cover a little confusion that was 
manifest in her aunt’s manner. 

“ Not exactly in navigation. Miss Rose; but clearing out, with 
honest folk, ought to come first, and navigation a’terwards. 


86 


JACK TIER. 


Clearing out means going througli the Custom-house, accordin’ 
to law.” 

“ And the Molly Swash has cleared out, I hope ?” 

“ Sartain—a more lawful clearance was never given in Wall- 
street; it’s for Key West and a market. I did think of making 
it Havana and a market, but port-charges are lightest at Key 
West.” 

“ Then Key West is the place to which we are bound ?” 

“ It ought to be, agreeable to papersthough vessels some¬ 
times miss the ports for which they clear.” 

Rose put no more questions; and her aunt being conscious 
that she had not appeared to advantage in the affair of the 
“ land-fall,” was also disposed to be silent. Spike and Mulford 
had their attention drawn to the vessel, and the conversation 
dropped. 

The reader can readily suppose that the Molly Swash had 
not been standing still all this time. So far from this, she was 
running “ down Sound,” with the wind on her quarter, or at 
southwest, making gi'eat headway, as she was close under the 
south shore, or on the island side of the water she was in. The 
vessel had no other motion than that of her speed, and the 
females escaped every thing like sea-sickness, for the time being. 
This enabled them to attend to making certain arrangements 
necessary to their comforts below, pre^dously to getting into 
rough water. In acquitting herself of this task, Rose received 
much useful advice from Josh, though his new assistant. Jack 
Tier, turned out to be a prize indeed, in the cabins. The first 
was only a steward; but the last proved himself not only a 
handy person of his calling, but one full of resources—a genius, 
in his way. Josh soon became so sensible of his own inferiority, 
in contributing to the comforts of females, that he yielded the 
entire management of the “ ladies’ cabin,” as a little place that 
might have been ten feet square, was called, to his uncouth¬ 
looking, but really expert deputy. Jack waddled about below 
as if born and brought up in such a place, and seemed every 


JACK TIER. 


87 


way fitted for liis office. In height, and in build generally, there 
was a surprising conformity between the widow and the steward’s 
deputy, a circumstance which might induce one to think they 
must often have been in each other’s way, in a space so small; 
though, in point of fact, Jack never ran foul of any one. He 
seemed to avoid this inconvenience by a species of nautical 
instinct. 

Towards the turn of the day. Rose had every thing arranged, 
and was surprised to find how much room she had made for her 
aunt and herself, by means of Jack’s hints, and how much more 
comfortable it was possible to be, in that small cabin, than she 
had at first supposed. 

After dinner. Spike took his siesta. He slept in a little state¬ 
room that stood on the starboard side of the quarter-deck, quite 
aft; as Mulford did in one on the larboard. These two state¬ 
rooms were fixtures; but a light deck overhead, which con¬ 
nected them, shipped and unshipped, forming a shelter for the 
man at the wheel, when in its place, as well as for the officer of 
the watch, should he see fit to use it, in bad weather. This sort 
of cuddy. Spike termed his “ coach-house.” 

The captain had no sooner gone into his stateroom, and 
closed its window, movements that were undersfood by Mulford, 
than the latter took occasion to intimate to Rose, by means of 
Jack Tier, the state of things on deck, when the young man was 
favored with the lady’s company. 

“ He has turned in for his afternoon’s nap, and will sleep for 
just one hour, blow high or blow low,” said the mate, placing 
himself at Rose’s side on the trunk, which formed the usual seat 
for those who could presume to take the liberty of sitting down 
on the quarter-deck. “ It’s a habit with him, and we can count 
on it, with perfect security.” 

“ His doing so, now, is a sign that he has no immediate fears 
of the revenue steamer ?” 

“ The coast is quite clear of her. We have taken good looks 
at every smoke, but can see nothing that appears like our late 


88 


JACK TIER. 


companion. She has doubtless gone to the eastward, on duty, 
and merely chased us on her road.” 

“ But why should she chase us at all ?” 

“ Because we ran. Let a dog run, or a man run, or a cat 
run, ten to one but something starts in chase. It is human 
nature, I believe, to give chase; though I will admit there was 
something suspicious about that steamer’s movements—her an¬ 
choring off the Fort, for instance. But let her go for the present: 
are you getting things right, and to your mind, below decks ?” 

“ Very much so. The cabin is small, and the two staterooms 
the merest drawers that ever were used, but by putting every 
thing in its place, we have made sufficient room, and no doubt 
shall be comfortable.” 

“ I am sorry you did not call on me for assistance. The 
mate has a prescriptive right to help stow away.” 

“We made out without your services,” returned Rose, slightly 
blushing. “Jack Tier, as he is called. Josh’s assistant, is a 
very useful person, and has been our adviser and manager. I 
want no better for such services.” 

“ He is a queer fellow, all round. Take him all together, I 
hardly ever saw so droll a being ! As thick as he’s long, with 
a waddle like a*duck, a voice that is cracked, hair like bristles, 
and knee high; the man might make a fortune as a show. 
Tom Thumb is scarcely a greater curiosity.” 

“ He is singular in build, as you call it,” returned Rose, 
laughing, “but, I can assure you that he is a most excellent fel¬ 
low in his way—w'orth a dozen of Josh. Ho you know, Harry, 
that I suspect he has strong feelings towards Captain Spike; 
though whether of like or dislike, friendship or enmity, I am at 
a loss to say.” 

“ And why do you think that he has any feeling at all ? I 
have heard Spike say he left the fellow ashore somewhere down 
on the Spanish Main, or in the Islands, quite twenty years 
since; but a sailor would scarce carry a grudge so long a 
time, for such a thing as that.” 


JACK TIER. 


89 


“ I do not know—but feeling there is, and much of it, too; 
though, whether hostile or friendly, I will not undertake to say.” 

“ ril look to the chap, now you tell me this. It is a little 
odd, the manner in which he got on board us, taken in connec¬ 
tion with the company he was in, and a discovery may be 
made. Here he is, however; and, as I keep the keys of the 
magazine, he can do us no great harm, unless he scuttles the 
brig.” 

“ Magazine! Is there such a thing here ?” 

“ To be sure there is, and ammunition enough in it to keep 
eight carronades in lively conversation for a couple of hours.” 

“ A carronade is what you call a gun, is it not ?” 

“ A piece of a one—being somewhat short, like your friend, 
Jack Tier, who is shaped a good deal like a carronade.” 

Kose smiled—nay, half laughed, for Harry’s pleasantries 
almost took the character of wit in her eyes, but she did not 
the less presume her inquiries. 

“ Guns! And where are they, if they be on this vessel ?” 

“ Do not use such a lubberly expression, my dear Rose, if 
you respect your father’s profession. On a vessel, is a new-fan¬ 
gled Americanism, that is neither fish, flesh, nor red-herring, as 
we sailors say—neither English nor Greek.” 

“ What should I say, then ? My wish is not to parade sea- 
talk, but to use it correctly when I use it at all.” 

“ The expression is hardly ‘ sea-talk,’ as you call it, but every¬ 
day English—that is, when rightly used. On a vessel is no 
more English than it is nautical—no sailor ever used such an 
expression.” 

“ Tell me what I ought to say, and you will find me a willing, 
if not an apt scholar. I am certain of having often read it in 
the newspapers, and that quite lately.” 

“ I’ll answer for that, and it’s another proof of its being wrong. 
In a vessel is as correct as in a coach, and cm a vessel, as wrong 
as can be; but you can say on hoard a vessel, though not ‘ on 
the boards of a vessel,’ as Mrs. Budd has it.” 


90 


JACK TIER. 


“ Mr. Mulford!” 

“ I beg a thousand pardons, Rose, and will offend no more—► 
though she does make some very queer mistakes.” 

“ My aunt thinks it an honor to my uncle’s memory, to be 
able to use the language of his professional life; and if she does 
sometimes make mistakes that are absurd, it is with motives so 
respectable that no sailor should deride them.” 

“ I am rebuked forever. Mrs. Budd may call the anchor a 
silver spoon, hereafter, without my even smiling. But if the 
aunt has this kind remembrance of a seaman’s life, why cannot 
the niece think equally well of it ?” 

“ Perhaps she does,” returned Rose, smiling again—“ seeing 
all its attractions through the claims of Captain Spike.” 

“ I think half the danger from him gone, now that you seem 
so much on your guard. What an odious piece of deception, 
to persuade Mrs. Budd that you were fast falling into a decline I” 

“ One so odious, that I shall surely quit the brig at the first 
port we enter, or even in the first suitable vessel that we may 
speak.” 

“And Mrs. Budd—could you persuade her to such a course ?” 

“ You scarce know us, Harry Mulford. My aunt commands, 
when there is no serious duty to perform; but we change places 
when there is. I can persuade her to any thing that is right, in 
ten minutes.” 

“ You might persuade a world!” cried Harry, with strong 
admiration expressed in his countenance; after which he began 
to converse with Rose, on a subject so interesting to themselves, 
that we do not think it prudent to relate any more of the dis¬ 
course, forgetting all about the guns. 

About four o’clock, of a fine summer’s afternoon, the Swash 
went through the Race, on the best of the ebb, and with a stag¬ 
gering southwest wind. Her movement by the land, just at 
that point, could not have been less than at the rate of fifteen 
miles in the hour. Spike was in high spirits, for his brig had 
got on famously that day, and there was nothing in sight to the 


JACK TIER. 


91 


eastward. He made no doubt, as he had told his mate, that 
the steamer had gone into the Vineyard Sound, and that she 
was bound over the shoals. 

“ They want to make political capital out of her,” he added, 
using one of the slang phrases that the “ business habits” of the 
American people are so rapidly incorporating with the common 
language of the country—“ They want to make political capital 
out of her, Harry, and must show her off to the Boston folk, 
who are full of notions. Well, let them turn her to as much 
account in that way as they please, so long as they keep her 
clear of the Molly. Your sarvant. Madam Budd”—addressing 
the widow, who just at that moment came on deck—“ a fine 
a’ternoon, and likely to be a clear night to run off the coast in.” 

“ Clear nights are desirable, and most of all at sea. Captain 
Spike,” returned the relict, in her best, complacent manner, 
“ whether it be to run q^a coast, or to run on a coast. In either 
case, a clear night or a bright moon must be useful.” 

Captain Spike rolled his tobacco over in his mouth, and cast 
a furtive glance at the mate, but he did not presume to hazard 
any further manifestations of his disposition to laugh. 

“ Yes, Madam Budd,” he answered, “ it is quite as you say, 
and I am only surprised where you have picked up so much of 
what I call useful nautical knowledge.” 

“We live and learn, sir. You will recollect that this is not 
my first voyage, having made one before, "land that I passed a 
happy, happy thirty years, in the society of my poor dear hus¬ 
band, Rose’s uncle. One must have been dull, indeed, not to 
have picked up, from such a companion, much of a calling that 
was so dear to him, and the particulars of which were so very 
dear to him. He actually gave me lessons in the ‘ sea dialect,’ 
as he called it, which probably is the true reason I am so accu¬ 
rate and general in my acquisitions.” 

“ Yes, Madam Budd—yes—hem—you are—yes, you are won¬ 
derful in that way. We shall soon get an offing now. Madam 
Budd—yes, soon get an offing, now.” 


92 


JACK TIER. 


“ And take in our departure, Captain Spike,” added the 
widow, with a very intelligent smile. 

“ Y^es, take our departure. Montauk is yonder, just coming 
in sight; only some three hours’ run from this spot. When 
we get there, the open ocean will lie before us; and give me 
the open sea, and I’ll not call the king my uncle.” 

“ Was he your uncle. Captain Spike ?” 

“ Only in a philanthropic way. Madam Budd. Yes, let us 
get a good offing, and a rapping to’gallant breeze, and I do not 
think I should care much for two of Uncle Sam’s new-fashioned 
revenue craft, one on each side of me.” 

“ How delightful do I find such conversation. Rose ! It’s as 
much like your poor dear uncle’s, as one pea is like another. 
* Yes,’ he used to say, too, ‘ let me only have one on each side 
of me, and a wrapper round the topgallant-sail to hold the 
breeze, and I’d not call the king my uncle.’ How I think of it, 
he used to talk about the king as his uncle, too.” 

“ It was all talk, aunty; he had no uncle, and, what is more, 
he had no king.” 

“ That’s quite true. Miss Rose,” rejoined Spike, attempting a 
bow, which ended in a sort of jerk; “it is not very becoming in 
us republicans to be talking of kings, but a habit is a habit. 
Our forefathers had kings, and we drop into their ways with¬ 
out thinking of what we are doing. Fore-topgallant yard, 
there!” • 

“ Sir.” 

“ Keep a bright look-out, ahead. Let me know the instant 
you make any thing in the neighborhood of Montauk.” 

“ Ay, ay, sir.” 

“ As I was saying. Madam Budd, we seamen drop into our 
forefathers’ ways. How, when I was a youngster, I remember, 
one day, that we fell in with a ketch—you know. Miss Rose, 
what a ketch is, I suppose ?” 

“ I have not the least notion of it, sir.” 

“ Rosy, you amaze me !” exclaimed the aunt—“ and you a 


JACK TIER. 


93 


shipmaster’s niece, and a shipmaster’s daughter! A catch is 
a trick that sailors have when they quiz landsmen.” 

“ Yes, Madam Budd, yes; we have them sort of catches, too; 
but I now mean the vessel with a peculiar rig, which we call a 
ketch, you know.” 

“ Is it the full-jigger, or the half-jigger sort, that you mean ?” 

Spike could hardly stand this, and he had to hail the top¬ 
gallant yard again, in order to keep the command of his muscles, 
for he saw by the pretty frown that was gathering on the brow 
of Bose, that she was regarding the matter a little seriously. 
Luckily, the answer of the man on the yard diverted the mind 
of the widow from the subject, and prevented the necessity of 
any reply. 

“ There’s a light, of course, sir, on Montauk, is there not. 
Captain Spike ?” demanded the seaman who was aloft. 

“ To be sure there is—every headland, hereabouts, has its 
light; and some have two.” 

“ Ay, ay, sir—it’s that which puzzles me; I think I see one 
lighthouse, and I’m not certain but I see two.” 

“ If there is any thing like a second, it must be a sail. Mon¬ 
tauk has but one light.” 

Mulford sprang into the fore-rigging, and in a minute was on 
the yard. He soon came down, and reported the lighthouse 
in sight, with the afternoon’s sun shining on it, but no sail 
near. 

“ My poor dear Mr. Budd used to tell a story of his being 
cast aAvay on a lighthouse, in the East Indies,” put in the relict 
as soon as the mate had ended his report, “ which always affected 
me. It seems there were three ships of them together, in an 
awful tempest directly off the land—” 

“ That was comfortable, any how,” cried Spike ;—“ if it must 
blow hard, let it come off the land, say I.” 

“ Yes, sir, it was directly off the land, as my poor husband al¬ 
ways said, which made it so much the worse, you must know. 
Rosy; though Captain Spike’s gallant spirit would rather eu- 


94 


JACK TIER. 


counter danger than not. It blew what they call a Hyson, in 
the Chinese seas—” 

“ A what, aunty ?—Hyson is the name of a tea, you know.” 

“ A Hyson, I’m pretty sure, it was; and I suppose thip wind 
is named after the tea, or the tea after the wind.” 

“ The ladies do get in a gale, sometimes, over their tea,” said 
Spike, gallantly; “ but I rather think Madam Budd must mean 
a Typhoon.” 

“ That’s it—a Typhoon, or a Hyson—there is not much dif¬ 
ference between them, you see. Well, it blew a Typhoon, and 
they are always mortal to somebody! This my poor Mr. Budd 
well knew, and he had set his chronometer for that Typhoon—” 

“ Excuse me, aunty, it was the barometer that he was watch¬ 
ing—the chronometer was his watch.” 

“ So it was—his watch on deck was his chronometer, I de¬ 
clare. I am forgetting a part of my education. Do you know 
the use of a chronometer, now. Rose ? You have seen your 
uncle’s often, but do you know how he used it ?” 

“ Not in the least, aunty. My uncle often tried to explain it, 
but I never could understand him.” 

“ It must have been, then, because Captain Budd did not try 
to make himself comprehended,” said Mulford, “ for I feel cer¬ 
tain nothing would be easier than to make you understand the 
uses of the chronometer.” 

“ I should like to learn it from yow, Mr. Mulford,” answered 
the charming girl, with an emphasis so slight on the ‘ you,’ that 
no one observed it but the mate, but which was clear enough 
to him, and caused every nerve to thrill. 

“ I can attempt it,” answered the young man, “ if it be agreea¬ 
ble to Mrs. Budd, who would probably like to hear it herself.” 

“ Certainly, Mr. Mulford; though I fancy you can say little 
on such a subject that I have not often heard already, from my 
poor dear Mr. Budd.” 

This was not very encouraging, truly; but Rose continuing 
to look interested, the mate proceeded. 


JACK TIER. 


95 


“ The use of the chronometer is to ascertain the longitude,” 
said Harry, “ and the manner of doing it is simply this: A 
chronometer is nothing more nor less than a watch, made with 
more care than usual, so as to keep the most accurate time. 
They are of all sizes, from that of a clock, down to this which 
I wear in my fob, and which is a watch in size and appearance. 
Now, the nautical almanacs are all calculated to some particular 
meridian— 

“ Yes,” interrupted the relict, “ Mr. Budd had a great deal to 
say about meridians.” 

“ That of London, or Greenwich, being the meridian used by 
those who use the English Almanacs, and those of Paris or St. 
Petersburg, by the French and Russians. Each of these places 
has an observatory, and chronometers that are kept carefully 
regulated, the year round. Every chronometer is set by the 
regulator of the particular observatory or place to which the 
almanac used is calculated.” 

“ How wonderfully like my poor dear Mr. Budd, all this is, 
Rosy! Meridians, and calculated, and almanacs! I could al¬ 
most think I heard your uncle entertaining me with one of his 
nautical discussions, I declare !” 

“ Now the sun rises earlier in places east, than in places west 
of us.” 

“ It rises earlier in the summer, but later in the winter, every¬ 
where, Mr. Mulford.” 

“Yes, my dear Madam; but'the sun rises earlier every day, 
in London, than it does in New York.” 

“ That is impossible,” said the widow, dogmatically: “ why 
should not the sun rise at the same time in England and 
America ?” 

“ Because England is east of America, aunty. The sun does 
not move, you know, but only appears to us to move, because 
the earth turns round from west to east, which causes those 
v/ho are farthest east to see it first. That is what Mr. Mul¬ 
ford means.” 


96 


JACK TIER. 


“ Rose has explained it perfectly well,” continued the mate. 
“Now the earth is divided into 360 degrees, and the day is di¬ 
vided into 24 hours. K 360 be divided by 24, the quotient will 
be 15. It follows that, for each fifteen degrees of longitude, 
there is a difierence of just one hour in the rising of the sun all 
over the earth, where it rises at all. New York is near five 
times 15 degrees west of Greenwich, and the sun consequently 
rises five hours later at New York than at London.” 

“ There must be a mistake in this. Rosy,” said the relict, in a 
tone of desperate resignation, in which the desire to break out 
in dissent was struggling oddly enough with an assumed dignity 
of deportment. “ I’ve always heard that the people of London 
are some of the latest in the world. Then, I’ve been in Lon¬ 
don, and know that the sun rises in New York, in December, a 
good deal earlier than it does in London, by the clock—yes, by 
the clock.” 

“ True enough, by the clock, Mrs. Budd, for London is more 
than ten degrees north of New York, and the farther north 
you go, the later the sun rises in winter, and the earlier in 
summer.” 

The relict merely shrugged her shoulders, as much as to say 
that she knew no such thing; but Rose, who had been well 
taught, raised her serene eyes to her aunt’s face, and mildly 
said— 

“ All true, aunty, and that is owing to the fact that the earth 
is smaller at each end than in the middle.” 

“ Fiddle faddle with your middles and ends. Rose—I’ve been 
in London, dear, and know that the sun rises later there than in 
New York, in the month of December, and that I know by the 
clock, I tell you.” 

“ The reason of which is,” resumed Mulford, “ because the 
clocks of each place keep the time of that place. Now, it is 
different with the chronometers ; they are set in the observatory 
of Greenwich, and keep the time of Greenwich. This watch 
chronometer was set there, only six months since; and this 


JACK TIER. 


97 


time, as you see, is near nine o’clock, when in truth it is only 
about four o’clock here, where we are.” 

“ I wonder you keep such a watch, Mr. Mulford!” 

“ I keep it,” returned the mate, smiling, “ because I know it 
to keep good time. It has the Greenwich time ; and, as your 
watch has the New York time, by comparing them together, it 
is quite easy to find the longitude of New York.” 

“ Do you, then, keep watches to compare with your chronom¬ 
eters ?” asked Rose, with interest. 

“ Certainly not; as that would require a watch for every 
separate part of the ocean, and then we should only get known 
longitudes. It would be impracticable, and load a ship with 
nothing but watches. What we do is this: We set our chro¬ 
nometers at Greenwich, and thus keep the Greenwich true time 
wherever we go. The greatest attention is paid to the chro¬ 
nometers, to see that they receive no injuries; and usually there 
are two, and often more of them, to compare one with another, 
in order to see that they go well. When in the middle of the 
ocean, for instance, we find the true time of the day at that 
spot, by ascertaining the height of the sun. This we do^by 
means of our quadrants, or sextants; for, as the sun is always 
in the zenith at twelve o’clock, nothing is easier than to do this, 
when the sun can be seen, and an arc of the heavens measured. 
At the instant the height of the sun is ascertained by one ob¬ 
server, he calls to another, who notes the time on the chronom¬ 
eter. The difference in these two times, or that of the chro¬ 
nometer and that of the sun, gives the distance in degrees and 
minutes, between the longitude of Greenwich and that of the 
place on the ocean where the observer is; and that gives him 
his longitude. If the difference is three hours and twenty 
minutes in time, the distance from Greenwich is fifty degrees of 
longitude, because the sun rises three hours and twenty min¬ 
utes sooner in London, than in the fiftieth degree of west 
longitude.” ^ 

“ A watch is a watch. Rosy,” put in the aunt, doggedly; 

5 


98 


JACK TIER. 


“ and time is time. When it’s four o’clock at our house, it’s 
four o’clock at your aunt Sprague’s, and it’s so all over the world. 
The world may turn round—I’ll not deny it, for your uncle 
often said as much as that^ but it cannot turn in the way Mr. 
Mulford says, or we should all fall off it, at night, when it was 
bottom upwards. No, sir, no; you’ve started wrong. My poor 
dear late Mr. Budd always admitted that the world turned round, 
as the books say; but when I suggested to him the difficulty of 
keeping things in their places, with the earth upside down, he 
acknowledged candidly—for he was all candor, I must say that 
for him—and owned that he had made a discovery by means of 
his barometer, which showed that the world did not turn roimd 
in the way you describe, or by rolling over, but by whirling 
about, as one turns in a dance. You must remember your 
uncle’s telling me this. Rose ?” 

Rose did remember her uncle’s telling her aunt this, as well 
as a great many other similar prodigies. Captain Budd had 
married his silly wife on account of her pretty face, and when 
the novelty of that was over, he often amused himself by in¬ 
venting all sorts of absurdities, to amuse both her and himself. 
Among other things. Rose well remembered his quieting her 
aunt’s scruples about falling off the earth, by laying down the 
theory that the world did not “ roll over,” but “ whirl round.” 
But Rose did not answer the question. 

“ Objects are kept in their places on the earth by means of 
attraction,” Mulford ventured to say, with a great deal of hu¬ 
mility of manner. “ I believe it is thought there is no up or 
down, except as we go from or towards the earth; and that 
would make the position of the last a matter of indifference, as 
respects objects keeping on it.” 

“ Attractions are great advantages, I will own, sir, especially 
to our sex. I think it will be acknowledged there has been no 
want of them in our family, any more than there has been of 
sense and information. Sense and information we pride our¬ 
selves on; attractions being gifts from God, we try to think less 


JACK TIER. 


99 


of them. But all the attractions in the world could not keep 
Rosy, here, from falling off the earth, did it ever come bottom 
upwards. And, mercy on me, where would she fall to!” 

Mulford saw that argument was useless, and he confined his 
remarks, during the rest of the conversation, to showing Rose 
the manner in which the longitude of a place might be ascer¬ 
tained, with the aid of the chronometer, and by means of ob¬ 
servations to get the true time of day, at the particular place 
itself. Rose was so quick-witted, and already so well instructed, 
as easily to comprehend the principles; the details being mat¬ 
ters of no great moment to one of her sex and habits. But 
Mrs. Budd remained antagonist to the last. She obstinately 
maintained that twelve o’clock was twelve o’clock; or, if there 
was any difference, “ London hours were notoriously later than 
those of New York.” 

Against such assertions arguments were obviously useless, and 
Mulford, perceiving that Rose began to fidget, had sufficient tact 
to change the conversation altogether. 

And still the Molly Swash kept in swift motion. Montauk 
was by this time abeam, and the little brigantine began to rise 
and fall, on- the long swells of the Atlantic, which now opened 
before her, in one vast sheet of green and rolling waters. On 
her right lay the termination of Long Island ; a low, rocky 
cape, with its light, a few fields in tillage for the uses of those 
who tended it. It was the “land’s end” of New York, while 
the island that was heaving up out of the sea, at a distance of 
about twenty miles to the eastward, was the property of Rhode 
Island, being called Blok Island. Between the two, the Swash 
shaped her course for the ocean. 

Spike liad betrayed uneasiness, as his brig came up with 
Montauk; but the coast spemed clear, with not even a distant 
sail in sight, and he came aft, rubbing his hands with delight, 
speaking cheerfully. 

“ All right, Mr. Mulford,” he cried—^‘ every thing ship-shape 
and bristerTfashion—not even a smack fishing hereaway, which 


100 


JACK TIER. 


is a little remarkable. Ha!—what are you staring at, over the 
quarter, there ?” 

“ Look here, sir, directly in the wake of the setting sun, 
which we are now opening from the land—is not that a 
sail?” 

“ Sail! Impossible, sir. What should a sail be doing in 
there, so near Montauk—no man ever saw a sail there in his 
life. It’s a spot in the sun. Madam Budd, that my mate has 
got a glimpse at, and, sailor-like, he mistakes it for a sail! 
Ha—ha—ha—yes, Harry, it’s a spot in the sun.” 

“ It is a spot on the sun, as you say, but it’s a spot made by a 
vessel; and here is a boat pulling towards her, might and 
main—going from the light, as if carrying news.” 

It was no longer possible for Spike’s hopes to deceive him. 
There was a vessel, sure enough; though, when first seen, it 
was so directly in a line with the fiery orb of the setting sun, as 
to escape common observation. As the brig went foaming on 
towards the ocean, however, the black speck was soon brought 
out of the range of the orb of day, and Spike’s glass was in¬ 
stantly levelled at it. 

“Just as one might expect, Mr. Mulford,” cried the captain, 
lowering his glass, and looking aloft to see what could be done 
to help his craft along; “ a bloody revenue cutter, as I’m a 
wicked sinner! There she lies, sir, within musket-shot of the 
shore, hid behind the point, as it might be in waiting for us, 
with her head to the southward, her helm hard down, topsail 
aback, and foresail brailed; as wicked looking a thing as Free 
Trade and Sailors’ Rights ever ran from. My life on it, sir, she’s 
been put in that precise spot, in waiting for the Molly to arrive. 
You see, as we stand on, it places her as handsomely to wind¬ 
ward of us, as the heart of man could desire.” 

“ It is a revenue cutter, sir; now she’s out of the sun’s wake, 
that is plain enough. And that is her boat which has been 
sent to the light to keep a look-out for us. Well, sir, she’s to 
windward; but we have every thing set for our course, and 


JACK TIER. 


101 


as we are fairly abeam, she must be a great traveller to over¬ 
haul us.” 

“ I thought these bloody cutters were all down in the Gulf,” 
growled the captain, casting his eye aloft again, to see that every 
thing drew. “ I’m sure the newspapers have mentioned as 
many as twenty that are down there, and here is one, lying be¬ 
hind Montauk, like a snake in the grass !” 

“ At any rate, by the time he gets his boat up we shall get 
the start of him—ay, there he fills and falls off, to go and 
meet her. He’ll soon be after us. Captain Spike, at racing 
speed.” 

Every thing occurred as those two mariners had foreseen. 
The revenue cutter, one of the usual fore-topsail schooners that 
are employed in that service, up and down the coast, had no 
sooner hoisted up her boat, than she made sail, a little off the 
wind, on a line to close with the Swash. As for the brig, she had 
hauled up to an easy bowline, as she came round Montauk, and 
was now standing off south-southeast, still having the wind at 
southwest. The weatherly position of the cutter enabled her to 
steer rather more than one point freer. At the commencement 
of this chase, the vessels were about a mile and a half apart, a 
distance too great to enable the cutter to render the light guns 
she carried available, and it was obvious from the first, that every 
thing depended on speed. And speed it was truly; both ves¬ 
sels fairly flying; the Molly Swash having at last met with 
something very like her match. Half an hour satisfied both 
Spike and Mulford that, by giving the cutter the advantage of 
one point in a freer wind, she would certainly get alongside of 
them, and the alternative was therefore to keep off. 

“A starn chase is a long chase, all the world over,” cried 
Spike—“ edge away, sir; edge away, sir, and bring the cutter 
well on our quarter.” 

This order was obeyed; but, to the surprise of those in the 
Swash, the cutter did not exactly follow, though she kept off a 
little more. Her object seemed to be to maintain her weatherly 


102 


JACK TIER. 


position, and in this manner the two vessels ran on for an hour 
lonorer, until the Swash had made most of the distance between 
Montauk and Blok Island. Objects were even becoming dimly 
visible on the last, and the light on the point was just becoming 
visible, a lone star above a waste of desert, the sun having been 
down now fully a quarter of an hour, and twilight beginning to 
draw the curtain of night over the waters. 

“A craft under Blok,” shouted the look-out, that was still 
kept aloft as a necessary precaution. 

“ What sort of a craft ?” demanded Spike, fiercely; for the 
very mention of a sail, at that moment, aroused all his ire. 
“Aren’t you making a frigate out of an apple-orchard?” 

“It’s the steamer, sir. I can now see her smoke. She’s 
just clearing the land, on the south side of the island, and seems 
to be coming round to meet us.” 

A long, low, eloquent whistle from the captain, succeeded this 
announcement. The man aloft was right. It was the steamer, 
sure enough; and she had been lying hid behind Blok Island, 
exactly as her consort had been placed behind Montauk, in 
waiting for their chase to arrive. The result was, to put the 
Molly Swash in exceeding jeopardy, and the reason why the 
cutter kept so well to windward was fully explained. To pass 
out to sea between these two craft was hopeless. There re¬ 
mained but a single alternative from capture by one or by the 
other, and that Spike adopted instantly. He kept his brig dead 
away, setting studding-sails on both sides. This change of 
course brought the cutter nearly aft, or somewhat on the other 
quarter, and laid the brig’s head in a direction to carry her 
close to the northern coast of the island. But the pnncipal 
advantage was gained over the steamer, which couldmot keep 
off, without first standing a mile or two, or even more, to the 
westward, in order to clear the land. This was so much clear 
gain to the Swash, which was running off at racing speed, on a 
northeast course, while her most dangerous enemy was still 
heading to the westward. As for the cutter, she kept away; 


JACK TIER. 


103 


but it was soon apparent that the brig had the heels of her, 
dead before the wind. 

Darkness now began to close around the three vessels; the 
brig and the schooner soon becoming visible to each other 
principally by means of their night-glasses, though the steamer’s 
position could be easily distinguished by means of her flaming 
chimney. This latter vessel stood to the westward for a quarter 
of an hour, when her commander appeared to become suddenly 
conscious of the ground he was losing, and he wore short round, 
and went ofi* before the wind, under steam and canvas, intending 
to meet the chase off the northern side of the island. The very 
person who had hailed the Swash, as she was leaving the wharf, 
who had passed her in Hell-Gate, with Jack Tier in his boat, 
and who had joined her off Throgmorton’s, was now on her 
deck, urging her commander by every consideration not to let 
the brig escape. It was at his suggestion that the course was 
changed. Nervous, and eager to seize the brig, he prevailed on 
the commander of the steamer to alter his course. Had he 
done no more than this, all might have been well; but so 
exaggerated were his notions of the Swash’s sailing, that, instead 
of suffering the steamer to keep close along the eastern side of 
the island, he persuaded her commander of the necessity of 
standing off a long distance to the northward and eastward, 
with a view to get ahead of the chase. This was not bad 
advice, were there any certainty that Spike would stand on, of 
which, however, he had no intention. 

The night set in dark and cloudy; and the instant that Spike 
saw, by means of the flaming chimney, that the steamer had 
wore, and was going to the eastward of Blok, his plan was laid. 
Calling to Mulford, he communicated it to him, and was glad 
to find that his intelligent mate was of his own way of thinking 
The necessary orders were given, accordingly, and every thing 
was got ready for its execution. 

In the mean time, the two revenue craft were much in earnest. 
The schooner was one of the fastest in the service, and had been 


• 104 


JACK TIER. 


placed under Montauk, as described, in the confident expectation 
of her being able to compete with even the Molly Swash suc¬ 
cessfully, more especially if brought upon a bowline. Her 
commander watched the receding form of the brig with the 
closest attention, until it was entirely swallowed up in the 
darkness, under the land, towards which he then sheered him¬ 
self, in order to prevent the Swash from hauling up, and turning 
to windward, close in under the shadow of the island. Against 
this manoeuvre, however, the cutter had now taken an effectual 
precaution, and her people were satisfied that escape in that way 
was impossible. 

On the other hand, the steamer was doing very well. Driven 
by the breeze, and propelled by her wheels, away she went, 
edging further and further from the island, as the person from 
the Custom-house succeeded, as it might be, inch by inch, in 
persuading the captain of the necessity of his so doing. At 
length a sail was dimly seen ahead, and then no doubt was 
entertained that the brig had got to the northward and eastward 
of them. Half an hour brought the steamer alongside of this 
sail, which turned out to be a brig that had come over the 
shoals, and was beating into the ocean, on her way to one of 
the southern ports. Her captain said there had nothing passed 
to the eastward. 

Round went the steamer, and in went all her canvas. Ten 
minutes later, the look-out saw a sail to the westward, standing 
before the wind. Odd as it might seem, the steamer’s people 
now fancied they were sure of the Swash. There she was, 
coming directly for them, with squared yards! The distance 
was short, or a vessel could not have been seen by that light, 
and the two craft were soon near each other. A gun was actu¬ 
ally cleared on board the steamer, ere it was ascertained that 
the stranger was the schooner! It was now midnight, and 
nothing was in sight but the coasting brig. Reluctantly, the 
revenue people gave the matter up; the Molly Swash having 
again eluded them, though by means unknown. 


JACK TIER. 


105 


4 * 


CHAPTER IV. 

“ Leander dived for love. Leucadia’s cliff 
The Lesbian Sappho leap’d from in a miff, 

To punish Phaon; Icarus went dead, 

Because the wax did not continue stiff; 

And, had he minded what his father said, 
lie had not given a name unto his watery bed.” 

Sands. 

We must now advance the time several days, and change the 
scene to a distant part of the ocean—within the tropics, indeed. 
The females had suffered slight attacks of sea-sickness, and 
recovered from them, and the brig was safe from all her pur¬ 
suers. The manner of Spike’s escape was simple enough, and 
without any necromancy. While the steamer, on the one hand, 
was standing away to the northward and eastward, in order to 
head him off, and the schooner was edging in with the island, 
in order to prevent his beating up to windward of it, within its 
shadows, the brig had run close round the northern margin of 
the land, and hauled up to leeward of the island, passing be¬ 
tween it and the steamer. All this time, her movements were 
concealed from the schooner by the island itself, and from the 
steamer, by its shadow and dark background, aided by the 
distance. By making short tacks, this expedient answered per¬ 
fectly well; and, at the very moment when fhe two revenue 
vessels met, at midnight, about three leagues to leeward of Blok 
Island, the brigantine Molly Swash was just clearing her most 
Weatherly point, on the larboard tack, and coming out exactly 
at the spot where the steamer was when first seen that afternoon. 
Spike stood to the westward, until he was certain of having the 
island fairl}'' between him and his pursuers, when he went about. 


106 


JACK TIER. 


and filled away on his course, running out to sea again on an 
easy bowline. At sunrise the next day he was fifty miles to the 
southward and eastward of Montauk; the schooner was going 
into New London, her officers and people quite chop-fallen; 
and the steamer was paddling up the Sound, her captain being 
fully persuaded that the runaways had returned in the direction 
from which they had come, and might yet be picked up in that 
quarter. 

The weather was light, just a week after the events related in 
the close of the last chapter. By this time the brig had got 
within the influence of the trades; and, it being the intention 
of Spike to pass to the southward of Cuba, he had so far profited 
by the westerly winds, as to get well to the eastward of the Mona 
Passage, the strait through which he intended to shape his course 
on making the islands. Early on that morning Mrs. Budd had 
taken her seat on the trunk of the cabin, with a complacent 
air, and arranged her netting, some slight passages of gallantry, 
on the part of the captain, having induced her to propose net¬ 
ting him a purse. Biddy was going to and fro, in quest of silks 
and needles, her mistress having become slightly capricious in 
her tastes of late, and giving her, on all such occasions, at least 
a double allowance of occupation. As for Rose, she sat read¬ 
ing beneath the shade of the coach-house deck, while the hand¬ 
some young mate was within three feet of her, working up his 
logarithms, but within the sanctuary of his own stateroom; the 
open door and window of which, however, gave him every fa¬ 
cility he could desire to relieve his mathematics, by gazing at 
the sweet countenance of his charming neighbor. Jack Tier 
and Josh were both passing to and fi:o, as is the wont of stew¬ 
ards, between the camboose and the cabin, the breakfast table 
being just then in the course of preparation. In all other re¬ 
spects, always excepting the man at the wheel, who stood within 
a fathom of Rose, Spike had the quarter-deck to himself, and 
did not fail to pace its weather-side with an air that denoted the 
master and owner. After exhibiting his sturdy, but short, per- 


JACK TIER. 


107 


son in this manner, to the admiring eyes of all beholders, for 
some time, the captain suddenly took a seat at the side of the 
relict, and dropped into the following discourse. 

“ The weather is moderate. Madam Budd; quite moderate,” 
observed Spike, a sentimental turn coming over him at the mo¬ 
ment. “ What I call moderate and agreeable.” 

“ So much the better for us ; the ladies are fond of modera¬ 
tion, sir.” 

“Not in admiration, Madam Budd—ha! ha! ha! no, not in 
admiration. Immoderation is what they like when it comes to 
that. I’m a single man, but I know that the ladies like admi¬ 
ration—mind where you’re sheering to,” the captain said, inter¬ 
rupting himself a little fiercely, considering the nature of the 
subject, in consequence of Jack Tier’s having trodden on his toe 
in passing; “ or I’ll teach you the navigation of the quarter¬ 
deck, Mr. Burgoo!” 

“ Moderation—moderation, my good captain,” said the sim¬ 
pering relict. “ As to admiration, I confess that it is agreeable 
to us ladies; more especially when it comes from gentlemen of 
sense, and intelligence, and experience.” 

Rose fidgeted, having heard every word that was said, and 
her face flushed ; for she doubted not that Harry’s ears were as 
good as her own. As for the man at the wheel, he turned the 
tobacco over in his mouth, hitched up his trowsers, and appeared 
interested, though somewhat mystified: the conversation was 
what he would have termed “ talking dictionary,” and he had 
some curiosity to learn how the captain would work his way out 
of it. It is probable that Spike himself had some similar 
gleamings of the difficulties of his position, for he looked a 
little troubled, though still resolute. It was the first time he 
had ever lain yard-arm and yard-arm with a widow, and he had 
long entertained a fancy that such a situation was trying to 
the best of men. 

“ Yes, Madam Budd, yes,” he said, “ exper’ence and sense 
carry weight with ’em, wherever they go. I’m glad to find that 


108 


JACK TIER. 


you entertain these just notions of us gentlemen, and make a 
difference between boys and them that’s seen and known ex- 
per’ence. For my part, I count youngsters under forty as so 
much lumber about decks, as to any comfort and calculations in 
keepin’ a family, as a family ought to be kept.” 

Mrs. Budd looked interested, but she remained silent on hear¬ 
ing this remark, as became her sex. 

“ Every man ought to settle in life, some time or other. Madam 
Budd, accordin’ to my notion, though no man ought to be in a 
boyish haste about it,” continued the captain. “Now, in my 
own case, I’ve been so busy all my youth—not that I’m very 
old now, but I’m no boy—but all my younger days have been 
passed in trying to make things meet, in a way to put any lady 
who might take a fancy to me—” 

“ Oh ! captain—that is too strong ! The ladies do not take 
fancies for gentlemen, but the gentlemen take fancies for ladies!” 

“ Well, well, you know what I mean. Madam Budd ; and so 
long as the parties understand each other, a word dropped, or a 
word put into a charter-party, makes it neither stronger nor 
weaker. There’s a time, howsomever, in every man’s life, when 
he begins to think of settling down, and of considerin’ himself 
as a sort of mooring-chain, for children and the likes of them to 
make fast to. Such is my natur’, I will own; and ever since 
I’ve got to be intimate in your family. Madam- Budd, that senti¬ 
ment has grown stronger and stronger in me, till it has got to 
be uppermost in all my idees. Bone of my bone, and flesh of 
ray flesh, as a body might say.” 

Mrs. Budd now looked more than interested, for she looked a 
little confused, and Bose began to tremble for her aunt. It was 
evident that the parties most conspicuous in this scene were not 
at all conscious that they were overheard, the intensity of their 
attention being too much concentrated on what was passing to 
allow of any observation without their own narrow circle. What 
may be thought still more extraordinary, but what in truth was 
the most natural of all, each of the parties was so intently bent 


JACK TIER. 


109 


on his, or her own train of thought, that neither in the least 
suspected any mistake. 

“Grown with your growth, and strengthened with your 
strength,” rejoined the relict, smiling kindly enough on the cap¬ 
tain to have encouraged a much more modest man than he hap¬ 
pened to be. 

“ Yes, Madam Budd—very just that remark; grown with 
my strength, and strengthened with my growth, as one might 
say; though I’ve not done much at growing for a good many 
years. Your late husband. Captain Budd, often remarked how 
very early I got my growth ; and rated me as an ‘ ablebodied’ 
hand, when most lads think it an honor to be placed among the 
‘ or’naries.’ ” 

The relict looked grave; and she wondered at any man’s being 
so singular as to allude to a first husband, at the very moment 
he was thinking of offering himself for a second. As for her¬ 
self, she had not uttered as many words in the last four years, 
as she had uttered in that very conversation, without making 
some allusion to her “ poor dear Mr. Budd.” The reader is not 
to do injustice to the captain’s widow, however, by supposing 
for a moment that she was actually so weak as to feel any ten¬ 
derness for a man like Spike, which would be doing a great 
wrong to both her taste and her judgment, as Rose well knew, 
even while most annoyed by the conversation she could not but 
overhear. All that influenced the good relict was that besetting 
weakness of her sex, which renders admiration so universally 
acceptable; and predisposes a female, as it might be, to listen 
to a suitor with indulgence, and some little show of kindness, 
even when resolute to reject him. As for Rose, to own the truth, 
her aunt did not give her a thought, as yet, notwithstanding 
Spike was getting to be so sentimental. 

“ Yes, your late excellent and honorable consort always said 
that I got my growth sooner than any youngster he ever fell 
in with,” resumed the captain, after a short pause; exciting 
fresh wonder in his companion, that he would persist in lugging 


110 


JACK TIER. 


in the “ dear departed” so very unseasonably. “ I am a great 
admirer of all the Budd family, my good lady, and only wish 
my connection with it had never tarminated; if tarminated it 
can be called.” 

“ It need not be terminated. Captain Spike, so long as friend¬ 
ship exists in the human heart.” 

“ Ay, so it is always with you ladies ; when a man is bent on 
suthin’ closer and more interestin’ like, you’re for putting it off 
on friendship. Now friendship is good enough in its way. Madam 
Budd, but friendship isn’t love^ 

“ Love /” echoed the widow, fairly starting, though she looked 
down at her netting, and looked as confused as she knew how. 
“ That is a very decided Avord, Captain Spike, and should never 
be mentioned to a Avoman’s ear lightly.” 

So the captain now appeared to think, too, for no sooner had 
he delivered himself of the important monosyllable, than he left 
the Avidow’s side, and began to pace the deck, as it might be to 
moderate his own ardor. As for Rose, she blushed, if her more 
practiced aunt did not; Avhile Harry Mulford laughed heartily, 
taking good care, hoAvever, not to be heard. The man at the 
Avheel turned the tobacco again, gave his troAvsers another hitch, 
and wondered aneAV Avhither the skipper was bound. But the 
drollest manifestation of surprise came from Josh, the steward, 
Avho was passing along the lee-side of the quarter-deck, Avith a 
teapot in his hand, Avhen the energetic manner of the captain 
sent the Avords “ friendship isn’t to his ears. This induced 
him to stop for a single instant, and to cast a wondering glance 
behind him; after which he moA^ed on towards the galley, mum¬ 
bling as he Avent—“ Lub! Avhat he Avant o^ lub, or what lub 
Avant of him? Well, I do t’ink Captain Spike bowse his jib 
out pretty ’arly dis mornin’.” 

Captain Spike soon got over the effects of his effort, and the 
confusion of the relict did not last any material length of time. 
As the former had gone so far, hoAA^ever, he thought the present 
an occasion as good as another to bring matters to a crisis. 


JACK TIER. 


Ill 


“Our sentiments sometimes get to be so strong, Madam Budd,” 
resumed the lover, as he took his seat again on the trunk, “ that 
they run away with us. Men is liable to be run away with as 
well as ladies. I once had a ship run away with me, and a 
pretty time we had of it. Did you ever hear of a ship’s run¬ 
ning away with her people. Madam Budd, just as your horse 
ran away with your buggy ?” 

“ I suppose I must have heard of such things, sir, my educa¬ 
tion having been so maritime, though just at this moment I cannot 
recall an instance. When my horse ran away, the buggy was 
cap-asided. Did your vessel cap-aside on the occasion you 
mention ?” 

“ No, Madam Budd, no. The ship was off the wind at the 
time I mean, and vessels do not capsize when off the wind. I’ll 
tell you how it happened. We was a scuddin’ under a goose¬ 
wing foresail—” 

“Yes, yes,” interrupted the relict, eagerly. “I’ve often heard 
of that sail, which is small, and used only in tempests.” 

“ Heavy weather. Madam Budd—only in heavy weather.” 

“ It is amazing to me, captain, how you seamen manage to 
weigh the weather. I have often heard of light weather and 
heavy weather, but never fairly understood the manner of 
weighing it.” 

“ Why we do make out to ascertain the difference,” replied 
the captain, a little puzzled for an answer; “ and I suppose it 
must be by means of the barometer, which goes up and down 
like a pair of scales. But the time I mean, we was a scuddin’ 
under a oroose-wing foresail—” 

“ A sail made of goose’s wings, and a beautiful object it must 
be ; like some of the caps and cloaks that come from the islands, 
which are all of feathers, and charming objects are they. I beg 
pardon—you had your goose’s wings spread—” 

“ Yes, Madam Budd, yes; we was steering for a Mediterra¬ 
nean port, intending to clear a mole-head, when a sea took us 
under the larboard quarter, gave us such a sheer to-port as sent 


112 


JACK TIER. 


our cat-head ag’in a spile, and raked away the chain-plates of 
the topmast back-stays, bringing down all the forrard hamj^er 
about our ears.” 

This description produced such a confusion in the mind of 
the widow, that she was glad when it came to an end. As for 
the captain, fearful that the “ goose’s wings” might be touched 
upon again, he thought it wisest to attempt another flight on 
those of Cupid. 

“As I was sayin’. Madam Budd, friendship isn’t love; no, not 
a bit of it! Friendship is a common sort of feelin’; but love, as 
you must know by exper’ence. Madam Budd, is an uncommon 
sort of feelin’.” 

“ Fie, Captain Spike, gentlemen should never allude to ladies 
knowing any thing about love. Ladies respect, and admire, and 
esteem, and have a regard for gentlemen; but it is almost too 
strong to talk about their love.” 

“ Yes, Madam Budd, yes; I dare say it is so, and ought to be 
so ; and I ask pardon for having said as much as I did. But 
my love for your niece is of so animated and lastin’ a natur’, that 
I scarce know what I did say.” 

“Captain Spike, you amaze me! I declare I can hardly 
breathe for astonishment. My niece! Surely you do not mean 
Rosy 1” 

“ Who else should I mean ? My love for Miss Rose is so 
very decided and animated, I tell you. Madam Budd, that I 
will not answer for the consequences, should you not consent to 
her marryin’ me.” 

“ I can scarce believe my ears 1 You, Stephen Spike, and an 
old friend of her uncle’s, wishing to marry his niece!” 

“ Just so. Madam Budd; that’s it, to a shavin’. The regard I 
have for tl^e whole family is so great, that nothin’ less than the 
hand of Miss Rose in marriage can, what I call, mitigate my 
feelin’s.” 

Now the relict had not one spark of tenderness herself in be¬ 
half of Spike ; while she did love Rose better than any human 


JACK TIER. 


113 


being, her own self excepted. But she had viewed all the sen¬ 
timent of that morning, and all the fine speeches of the captain, 
very difierently from what the present state of things told her 
she ought to have viewed them; and she felt the mortification 
natural to her situation. The captain was so much bent on the 
attainment of his own object, that he saw nothing else, and was 
even unconscious that his extraordinary and somewhat loud 
discourse had been overheard. Least of all did he suspect that 
his admiration had been mistaken ; and that in what he called 
“ courtin’ ” the niece, he had been all the while “ courtin’ ” the 
aunt. But little apt as she was to discover any thing, Mrs. 
Budd had enough of her sex’s discernment in a matter of this 
sort, to perceive that she had fallen into an awkward mistake, 
and enough of her sex’s pride to resent it. Taking her work in 
her hand, she left her seat, and descended to the cabin, with 
quite as much dignity in her manner as it was in the power of 
one of her height and “ build” to express. What is the most 
extraordinary, neither she nor Spike ever ascertained that their 
whole dialogue had been overheard. Spike continued to pace 
the quarter-deck for several minutes, scarce knowing what to 
think of the relict’s manner, when his attention was suddenly 
drawn to other matters by the familiar cry of “ sail-ho!” 

This was positively the first vessel with which the Molly Swash 
had fallen in since she lost sight of two or three craft that had 
passed her in the distance, as she left the American coast. As 
usual, this cry brought all hands on deck, and Mulford out of 
his stateroom. 

It has been stated already that the brig was just beginning to 
feel the trades, and it might have been added, to see the moun¬ 
tains of San Domingo. The winds had been variable for the 
last day or two, and they still continued light and disposed to 
be unsteady, ranging from northeast to southeast, with a pre¬ 
ponderance in favor of the first point. At the cry of “ sail-ho!” 
everybody looked in the indicated direction, which was west, a 
little northerly, but for a long time without success. The cry 


114 


JACK TIER. 


had come from aloft, and Mulford went up as high as the fore¬ 
top before he got any glimpse of the stranger at all. He had 
slung a glass, and Spike was unusually anxious to know the re¬ 
sult of his examination. 

“ Well, Mr. Mulford, what do you make of her ?” he called 
out as soon as the mate announced that he saw the strange 
vessel. 

“ Wait a moment, sir, till I get a look,—she’s a long way olf, 
and hardly visible.” 

“ Well, sir, well ?” 

“ I can only see the heads of her top-gallant sails. She seems 
a ship steering to the southward, with as many kites flying as 
an Indiaman in the trades. She looks as if she were carrying 
royal stun’-sails, sir.” 

“ The devil she does! Such a chap must not only be in a 
hurry, but he must be strong-handed to give himself all this 
trouble in such light and var’able winds. Are his yards square ? 
—Is he man-of-war-ish ?” 

“ There’s no telling, sir, at this distance; though I rather 
think it’s stun’sails that I see. Go down and get your 
breakfast, and in half an hour I’ll give a better account of 
him.” 

This was done, Mrs. Budd appearing at the table with great 
dignity in her manner. Although she had so naturally supposed 
that Spike’s attentions had been intended for herself, she was 
rather mortifled than hurt on discovering her mistake. Her 
appetite, consequently, was not impaired, though her stomach 
might have been said to be very full. The meal passed off 
without any scene, notwithstanding, and Spike soon reappeared 
on deck, still masticating the last mouthful like a man in a 
hurry, and a good deal a VAmericaine, Mulford saw his arri¬ 
val, and immediately levelled his glass again. 

“Well, what news now, sir?” called out the captain. “You 
must have a better chance at him by this time, for I can see the 
chap from off the coach-house here.” 


JACK TIER. 


115 


“Ay, ay, sir; he’s a bit nearer, certainly. I should say that 
craft is a ship under stun’sails, looking to the eastward of south, 
and that there are caps with gold bands on her quarter-deck.” 

“ How low down can you see her ?” demanded Spike, in a 
voice of thunder. 

So emphatic and remarkable was the captain’s manner in 
putting this question, that the mate cast a look of surprise 
beneath him ere he answered it. A look with the glass suc¬ 
ceeded, when the reply was given. 

“Ay, ay, sir; there can be no mistake—it’s a cruiser, you 
may depend on it. I can see the heads of her topsails now, 
and they are so square and symmetrical, that gold bands are 
below beyond all doubt.” 

“ Perhaps he’s a Frenchman; Johnny Crapaud keeps cruisers 
in these seas as well as the rest on ’em.” 

“Johnny Crapaud’s craft don’t spread such arms, sir. The 
ship is either English or American; and he’s heading for the 
Mona Passage as well as ourselves.” 

“ Come down, sir, come down; there’s work to be done as 
soon as you have breakfasted.” 

Mulford did come down, and he was soon seated at the table 
with both Josh and Jack Tier for attendants. The aunt and 
the niece were in their own cabin, a few yards distant, with the 
door open. 

“What a fuss ’e cap’in make ’bout dat sail!” grumbled Josh, 
who had been in the brig so long that he sometimes took liber¬ 
ties with even Spike himself. “ What good he t’ink ’twill do to 
measure him inch by inch ? Bye’m by he get alongside, and 
den ’e ladies even can tell all about him.” 

“He nat’rally wishes to know who gets alongside,” put in 
Tier, somewhat apologetically. 

“ What matter dat ? All sort of folk get alongside of Molly 
Swash ; and what good it do ’em ? Yoh! yoh! yoh ! I do 
remem’er sich times vid ’e ole hussy!” 

“ What old hussy do you mean ?” demanded Jack Tier, a 


116 


JACK TIER. 


little fiercely, and in a way to draw Mulford’s eyes from the 
profile of Rose’s face to tlie visages of his two attendants. 

“ Come, come, gentlemen, if you please; recollect where you 
are,” interrupted the mate, authoritatively. “ You are not now 
squabbling in your galley, but are in the cabin. What is it to 
you. Tier, if Josh does call the brig an old hussy ? She is old, 
as we all know, and years are respectable; and as for her being 
a ‘ hussy,’ that is a term of endearment sometimes. I’ve heard 
the captain himself call the Molly a ‘ hussy,’ fifty times, and he 
loves her as he does the apple of his eye.” 

This interference put an end to the gathering storm, as a 
matter of course, and the two disputants shortly after passed on 
deck. No sooner was the coast clear than Rose stood in the 
door of her own cabin. 

“ Do you think the strange vessel is an American ?” she asked 
eagerly. 

“ It is impossible to say—English or American, I make no 
doubt. But why do you inquire ?” 

“ Both my aunt and myself desire to quit the brig, and if the 
stranger should prove to be an American vessel of war, might 
not the occasion be favorable ?” 

“And what reason can you give for desiring to do so?” 

“ What signifies a reason ?” answered Rose, with spirit. 
“ Spike is not our master, and we can come and go as we may 
see fit.” 

“ But a reason must be given to satisfy the commander of the 
vessel of war. Craft of that character are very particular about 
the passengers they receive ; nor would it be altogether wise in 
two unprotected females to go on board a cruiser, unless in a‘ 
case of the most obvious necessity.” 

“ Will not what has passed this morning be thought a suffi¬ 
cient reason?” added Rose, drawing nearer to the mate, and 
dropping her voice so as not to be heard by her aunt. 

Mulford smiled as he gazed at the earnest but attractive 
countenance of his charming companion. 


JACK TIER. 


117 


“And who could tell it, or how could it be told ? Would the 
commander of a vessel of war incur the risk of receiving such a 
person as yourself on board his vessel, for the reason that the 
master of the craft she was in when he fell in with her, desired 
to marry her ?” 

Rose appeared vexed, but she was at once made sensible that 
it was not quite as easy to change her vessel at sea, as to step 
into a strange door in a town. She drew slowly back into her 
own cabin, silent and thoughtful; her aunt pursuing her netting 
the whole time with an air of dignified industry. 

“ Well, Mr. Mulford, well,” called out Spike, at the head of 
the cabin stairs, “ what news from the coffee ?” 

“All ready, sir,” answered the mate, exchanging significant 
glances with Rose. “ I shall be up in a moment.” 

That moment soon came, and Mulford was ready for duty. 
While below. Spike had caused certain purchases to be got aloft, 
and the main-hatch was open and the men collected around it, 
in readiness to proceed with the work. Harry asked no ques¬ 
tions, for the preparations told him what was about to be done, 
but passing below, he took charge of the duty there, while the 
captain superintended the part that was conducted on deck. In 
the course of the next hour eight twelve-pound carronades were 
sent up out of the hold, and mounted in as many of the ports 
which lined the bulwarks of the brigantine. The men seemed 
to be accustomed to the sort of work in which they were now 
engaged, and soon had their light batteries in order, and ready 
for service. In the mean time the two vessels kept on their 
respective courses, and by the time the guns were mounted, 
there was a sensible difference in their relative positions. The 
stranger had drawn so near the brigantine as to be very obvious 
from the latter’s deck, while the brigantine had drawn so much 
nearer to the islands of San Domingo and Porto Rico, as to ren¬ 
der the opening between them, the well-known Mona Passage, 
distinctly visible. 

Of all this Spike appeared to be fully aware, for he quitted 


118 


JACK TIER. 


the work several times before it was finished, in order to take a 
look at the stranger and at the land. AVhen the batteries were 
arranged, he and Mulford, each provided with a glass, gave a 
few minutes to a more deliberate examination of the first. 

“ That’s the Mona ahead of us,” said the captain; “ of that 
there can be no question, and a very pretty land-fall you’ve 
made of it, Harry. I’ll allow you to be as good a navigator as 
floats.” 

“Nevertheless, sir, you have not seen fit to let me know 
whither the brig is really bound this voyage.” 

“No matter for that, young man—no matter, as yet. All in 
good time. When I tell you to lay your course for the Mona, 
you can lay your course for the Mona; and, as soon as we are 
through the passage. I’ll let you know what is wanted next—if 
that bloody chap, who is nearing us, will let me.” 

“And why should any vessel wish to molest us on our pas¬ 
sage, Captain Spike?” 

“ W^hy, sure enough ! It’s war-times, you know; and war¬ 
times always bring trouble to the trader—though it sometimes 
brings profit, too.” 

As Spike concluded, he gave his mate a knowing wink, Avhich 
the other understood to mean that he expected himself some of 
the unusual profit to which he alluded. Mulford did not relish 
this secret communication, for the past had induced him to sus¬ 
pect the character of the trade in which his commander was 
accustomed to engage. Without making any sort of reply, or 
encouraging the confidence by even a smile, he levelled his glass 
at the stranger, as did Spike, the instant he ceased to grin. 

“ That’s one of Uncle Sam’s fellows!” exclaimed the captain, ■ 
dropping the glass. “ I’d swear to the chap in any admiralty 
court on ’arth.” 

“ ’Tis a vessel of war, out of all doubt,” returned the mate, 

“ and under a cloud of canvas. I can make out the heads of 
her courses now, and see that she is caiTying hard, for a craft 
that is almost close-hauled.” 


JACK TIER. 


119 


“ Ay, ay; no mercliantman keeps his light stun’sails set, as 
near the wind as that fellow’s going. He’s a big chap, too—a 
frigate, at least, by his canvas.” 

“ I do not know, sir ; they build such heavy corvettes now- 
a-days, that I should rather take her for one of them. They 
tell me ships are now sent to sea which mount only two-and- 
twenty guns, but which measure quite a thousand tons.” 

“With thunderin’ batteries, of course.” 

“ With short thirty-twos and a few rapping sixty-eight Paix- 
hans—or Columbiads, as they ought in justice to be called.” 

“And you think this chap likely to be a craft of that 
sort ?” 

“ Nothing is more probable, sir. Government has several, 
and, since this war has commenced, it has been sending off 
cruiser after cruiser into the Gulf. The Mexicans dare not send 
a vessel of war to sea, which would be sending them to Norfolk 
or New York at once; but no one can say when they may be¬ 
gin to make a prey of our commerce.” 

“ They have taken nothing as yet, Mr. Mulford; and, to tell 
you the truth, I’d much rather fall in with one of Don Montezu¬ 
ma’s craft than one of Uncle Sam’s.” 

“ That is a singular taste for an American, Captain Spike, 
unless you think, now our guns are mounted, we can handle a 
Mexican,” returned Mulford, coldly. “ At all events, it is some 
answer to those who ask ‘ What is the navy about ?’ that 
months of war have gone by, and not an American has been 
captured. Take away that navy, and the insurance offices in 
Wall-street would tumble like a New York party-wall in a fire.” 

“ Nevertheless, I’d rather take my chance, just now, with 
Don Montezuma than with Uncle Sam.” 

Mulford did not reply, though the earnest manner in which 
Spike expressed himself, helped to increase his distrust touching 
the nature of the voyage. With him the captain had no fur¬ 
ther conference; but it was different as respects the boatswain. 
That worthy was called aft, and for half an hour he and Spike 


12*0 


JACK TIER. 


were conversing apart, keeping their eyes fastened on the strange 
vessel most of the time. 

It was noon before all uncertainty touching the character of 
the stranger ceased. By that time, however, both vessels were 
entering the Mona Passage; the brig well to windward, on the 
Porto Rico side; while the ship was so far to leeward as to be 
compelled to keep every thing close-hauled, in order to weather 
the island. The hull of the last could now be seen, and no 
doubt was entertained about her being a cruiser, and one of 
some size, too. Spike thought she- was a frigate ; but Mulford 
still inclined to the opinion that she was one of the new ships; 
perhaps a real corvette, or with a light spar-deck over her bat¬ 
teries. Two or three of the new vessels were known to be thus 
fitted, and this might be one. At length all doubt on the sub¬ 
ject ceased, the stranger setting an American ensign, and get¬ 
ting so near as to make it apparent that she had but a single 
line of guns. Still she was a large ship, and the manner in 
which she ploughed through the brine, close-hauled as she was, 
extorted admiration even from Spike. 

“ We had better begin to shorten sail, Mr. Mulford,” the cap¬ 
tain at length most reluctantly remarked. “We might give 
the chap the slip, perhaps, by keeping close in under Porto 
Rico, but he would give. us a long chase, and might drive us 
away to windward, when I wish to keep off between Cuba and 
Jamaica. He’s a traveller; look, how he stands up to it under 
that cloud of canvas 1” 

Mulford was slow to commence on the studding-sails, and the 
cruiser was getting nearer and nearer. At length a gun was 
fired, and a heavy shot fell about two hundred yards short of' 
the brig, and a little out of line with her. On this hint. Spike 
turned the hands up, and began to shorten sail. In ten min¬ 
utes the Swash was under her topsail, mainsail, and jib, with her 
light sails hanging in the gear, and all the steering canvas in. 
In ten minutes more the cruiser was so near as to admit of the 
faces of the three or four men whose heads were above the 


JACK TIER. 


121 


hammock-cloths being visible, when she too began to fold her 
wings. In went her royals, topgallant-sails, and various kites, 
as it might be by some common muscular agency; and up 
went her courses. Every thing was done at once. By this 
time she W’^as crossing the brig’s wake, looking exceedingly 
beautiful, with her topsails lifting, her light sails blowing out, 
and even her heavy courses fluttering in the breeze. There flew 
the glorious stars and stripes also ; of brief existence, but full of 
recollections ! The moment she had room, her helm went up, 
her bows fell off, and down she came on the weather-quarter 
of the Swash, so near as to render a trumpet nearly useless. 

On board the brig, everybody was on deck; even the relict 
having forgotten her mortification in curiosity. On board the 
cruiser, no one was visible, with the exception of a few men in 
each top, and a group of gold-banded caps on the poop. Among 
these officers stood the captain, a red-faced, middle-aged man, 
with the usual signs of his rank about him; and at his side 
was his lynx-eyed first lieutenant. The surgeon and purser 
were also there, though they stood a little apart from the more 
nautical dignitaries. The hail that followed came out of a trum¬ 
pet that was thrust through the mizzen jigging, the officer who 
used it taking his cue from the poop. 

“ What brig is that ?” commenced the discourse. 

“ The Molly Swash, of New York, Stephen Spike, master.” 

“ AVhere from, and whither bound ?” 

“ From New York, and bound to Key West and a market.” 

A pause succeeded this answer, during which the officers on 
the poop of the cruiser held some discourse with him of the 
trumpet. During the interval the cruiser ranged fairly up abeam. 

“ You are well to windward of your port, sir,” observed he 
of the trumpet, significantly. 

“ I know it; but it’s war-times, and I didn’t know but there 
might be picaroons hovering about the Havana.” 

“ The coast is clear, and our cruisers will keep it so. I see 
you have a battery, sir !” 


6 


122 


JACK TIER. 


“ Ay, ay; some old guns that I’ve had aboard these ten years * 
they’re useful, sometimes, in these seas.” 

“ Very true. I’ll range ahead of you, and as soon as you’ve 
room. I’ll thank you to heave-to. I wish to send a boat on 
board you.” 

Spike was sullen enough on receiving this order, but there 
was no help for it. He was now in the jaws of the lion, and 
his wisest course was to submit to the penalties of his position 
with the best grace he could. The necessary orders were con¬ 
sequently given, and the brig no sooner got room than she came 
by the wind and backed her topsail. The cruiser went about, 
and passing to Avindward, backed her main-topsail just forward 
of the Swash’s beam. Then the latter lowered a boat, and sent 
it, Avith a lieutenant and a midshipman in its stern-sheets, on 
board the brigantine. As the cutter approached. Spike went 
to the gangway to receive the strangers. 

Although there will be frequent occasion to mention this 
cruiser, the circumstances are of so recent occurrence, that we 
do not choose to give either her name or that of any one belong¬ 
ing to her. We shall, consequently, tell the curious, Avho may 
be disposed to turn to their navy-lists and blue-books, that the 
search Avill be of no use, as all the names we shall use, in refer¬ 
ence to this cruiser, Avill be fictitious. As much of the rest of 
our story as the reader please may be taken for gospel; but we 
tell him frankly, that Ave have thought it most expedient to 
adopt assumed names, in connection Avith this vessel and all her 
officers. There are good reasons for so doing; and, among 
others, is that of abstaining from arming a clique to calumniate 
her commander (avIio, by the Avay, like another commander in 
the Gulf that might be named, and avIio has actually been ex¬ 
posed to the sort of tracasserie to Avhich there is allusion, is one 
of the very ablest men in the service), in order to put another 
in his place. 

The officer avIio now came over the side of the SavrsIi we 
shall call Wallace; he was the second lieutenant of the vessel 


JACK TIER. 


123 


of war. He was about thirty, and the midshipman who follow¬ 
ed him was a well-grown lad of nineteen. Both had a decided 
man-of-war look, and both looked a little curiously at the vessel 
they had boarded. 

“Your servant, sir,” said Wallace, touching his cap in reply 
to Spike’s somewhat awkward bow. “ Your brig is the Molly 
Swash, Stephen Spike, bound from New York to Key West and 
a market.” 

“ You’ve got it all as straight, lieutenant, as if you was a 
readin’ it from the log.” 

“ The next thing, sir, is to know of what your cargo is com¬ 
posed ?” 

“ Flour; eight hundred barrels of flour.” 

“ Flour! Would you not do better to carry that to Liverpool ? 
The Mississippi must be almost turned into paste by the quan¬ 
tity of flour it floats to market.” 

“Notwithstanding that, lieutenant, I know Uncle Sam’s econ¬ 
omy so well, as to believe I shall part with every barrel of. my 
flour to his contractors, at a handsome profit.” 

“ You read Whig newspapers principally, I rather think, Mr. 
Spike,” answered Wallace, in his cool, deliberate way, smiling, 
however, as he spoke. 

We may just as well say here, that nature intended this gen¬ 
tleman for a second lieutenant, the very place he filled. He 
was a capital second lieutenant, while he would not have earned 
his rations as first. So well was he assured of this peculiarity 
in his moral composition, that he did not wish to be the first 
lieutenant of any thing in which he sailed. A respectable sea¬ 
man, a well-read and intelligent man, a capital deck officer, or 
watch officer, he was too indolent to desire to be any thing 
more, and was as happy as the day was long, in the easy berth 
he filled. The first lieutenant had been his messmate as a mid¬ 
shipman, and ranked him but two on the list in his present 
commission; but he did not envy him in the least. On the 
contrary, one of his greatest pleasures was to get “ Working 


124 


JACK TIER. 


Willy,” as he called his senior, over a glass of wine, or a tumbler 
of “ hot-stuff,” and make him recount the labors of the day. 
On such occasions, Wallace never failed to compare the situation 
of “Working Willy” with his own gentlemanlike ease and in¬ 
dependence. As second lieutenant, his rank raised him above 
most of the unpleasant duty of the ship, while it did not raise 
him high enough to plunge him into the never-ending labors of 
his senior. He delighted to call himself the “ ship’s gentleman,” 
a sobriquet he well deserved, on more accounts than one. 

“ You read Whig newspapers principally, I rather think, Mr. 
Spike,” answered the lieutenant, as has been just mentioned, 
“ while we on board the Poughkeepsie indulge in looking over 
the columns of the Union, as well as over those of the Intelli¬ 
gencer, when by good luck we can lay our hands on a stray 
number. 

“ That ship, then, is called the Poughkeepsie, is she, sir ?” 
inquired Spike. 

“^uch is her name, thanks to a most beneficent and sage 
provision of Congress, which has extended its parental care over 
the navy so far as to imagine that a man chosen by the people 
to exercise so many of the functions of a sovereign, is not fit to 
name a ship. All our two and three deckers are to be called 
after states ; the frigates after rivers; and the sloops after towns. 
Thus it is that our craft has the honor to be called the United 
States ship the ‘Poughkeepsie,’ instead of the ‘Arrow,’ or the 
‘Wasp,’ or the ‘ Curlew,’ or the ‘Petrel,’ as might otherwise 
have been the case. But the wisdom of Congress is manifest, 
for the plan teaches us sailors geography.” 

“ Yes, sir, yes, one can pick up a bit of I’arnin’ in that way 
cheap. The Poughkeepsie, Captain-?” 

“ The United States ship Poughkeepsie, 20, Captain Adam 
Mull, at your service. But, Mr. Spike, you will allow me to look 
at your papers. It is a duty I like, for it can be performed 
quietly, and without any fuss.” 

Spike looked distrustfully at his new acquaintance, but went 



JACK TIER. 


125 


for his vessel’s papers without any very apparent hesitation. 
Every thing was en regie^ and Wallace soon got through with 
the clearance, manifest, (fee. Indeed the cargo, on paper at least, 
was of the simplest and least complicated character, being com¬ 
posed of nothing but eight hundred barrels of flour, 

“ It all looks very well on paper, Mr. Spike,,” added the 
boarding officer. “ With your permission, we will next see how 
it looks in sober reality. I perceive your main hatch is open, 
and I suppose it will be no difficult matter just to take a glance 
at your hold.” 

“ Here is a ladder, sir, that will take us at once to the half¬ 
deck, for I have no proper ’twixt decks in this craft; she’s too 
small for that sort of outfit.” 

“No matter, she has a hold, I suppose, and that can contain 
cargo. Take me to it by the shortest road, Mr. Spike, for I am 
no great admirer of trouble.” 

Spike now led the way below, Wallace following, leaving the 
midshipman on deck, who had fallen into conversation with the 
relict and her pretty niece. The half-deck of the brigantine 
contained spare sails, provisions, and water, as usual, while 
quantities of old canvas lay scattered over the cargo; more 
especially in the wake of the hatches, of which there were two 
besides that which led from the quarter-deck. 

“ Flour to the number of eight hundred barrels,” said Wal¬ 
lace, striking his foot against a barrel that lay within his reach. 
“ The cargo is somewhat singular to come from New York, 
going to Key West, my dear Spike.” 

“ I suppose you know what sort of a place Key West is, sir; 
a bit of an island in which there is scarce so much as a potatoe 
grows.” 

“ Ay, ay, sir; I know Key West very well, having been in 
and out a dozen times. All eatables are imported, turtle ex¬ 
cepted. But flour can be brought down the Mississippi so much 
cheaper than it can be brought from New York.” 

“ Have you any idee, lieutenant, what Uncle Sam’s men are 


126 


JACK TIER. 


paying for it at New Orleens^ just to keep soul and bodies to¬ 
gether among the so’gers ?” 

“ That may be true, sir—quite true, I dare say, Mr. Spike. 
Haven’t you a bit of a chair that a fellow can sit down on— 
this half-deck of yours is none - of the most comfortable places 
to stand in.^ Thank you, sir—thank you with all my heart. 
What lots of old sails you have scattered about the hold, es¬ 
pecially in the wake of the hatches !” 

“ Why, the craft being little more than in good ballast trim, 
I keep the hatches off to air her; and the spray might spit down 
upon the flour at odd times but for them ’ere sails.” 

“ Ay, a prudent caution. So you think Uncle Sam’s people 
will be after this flour as soon as they learn you have got it snug 
in at Key West ?” 

“ What more likely, sir ? You know how it is with our gov¬ 
ernment—always wrong, whatever it does! and I can show you 
paragraphs in letters written from New Orleens^ which tell us 
that Uncle Sam is paying seventy-five and eighty per cent, more 
for flour than anybody else.” 

“He must be a flush old chap to be able to do that. 
Spike.” 

“ Flush! I rather think he is. Do you know that he is 
spendin’, accordin’ to approved accounts, at this blessed mo¬ 
ment, as much as half a million a day ? I own a wish to be 
pickin’ up some of the coppers while they are scattered about 
so plentifully.” 

“ Half a million a day ! why that is only at the rate of 
$187,000,000 per annum; a mere trifle. Spike, that is scarce 
worth mentioning among us mariners.” 

“ It’s so in the newspapers, I can swear, lieutenant.” 

“ Ay, ay, and the newspapers will swear to it, too, and they 
that gave the newspapers their cue. But no matter, our busi¬ 
ness is with this flour. Will you sell us a barrel or two for our 
mess ? I heard the caterer say we should want flour in the 
course of a week or so.” 


JACK TIER. 


127 


Spike seemed embarrassed, though not to a degree to awaken 
suspicion in his companion. 

“ I never sold cargo at sea, long as I’ve sailed and owned a 
craft,” he answered, as if uncertain what to do. “ If you’ll pay 
the price I expect to get in the Gulf, and will take ten barrels, I 
don’t know but we may make a trade on’t. I shall only ask ex¬ 
pected prices.” 

“ Which will be— ?” 

“ Ten dollars a barrel. For one hundred silver dollars I will 
put into your boat ten barrels of the very best brand known in 
the western country.” 

“ This is dealing rather more extensively than I anticipated, 
but we will reflect on it.” 

Wallace now indolently arose and ascended to the quarter¬ 
deck, followed by Spike, who continued to press the flour on 
him, as if anxious to make money. But the lieutenant hesitated 
about paying a price so high as ten dollars, or to take a quantity 
so large as ten barrels. 

“ Our mess is no great matter after all,” he said carelessly. 
“ Four lieutenants, the purser, two doctors, the master, and a 
marine officer, and you get us alL Nine men could never eat 
ten barrels of flour, my dear Spike, you will see for yourself, 
with the quantity of excellent bread we carry. You forget the 
bread.” 

“ Not a bit of it, Mr. Wallace, since that is your name. But 
such flour as this of mine has not been seen in the Gulf this 
many a day. I ought in reason to ask twelve dollars for it, and 
insist on such a ship as your’n’s taking twenty instead of the 
ten barrels.” 

“ I thank you, sir, the ten will more than sufiice; unless, in¬ 
deed, the captain wants some for the cabin. How is it with 
your steerage messes, Mr. Archer—do yo^i want any flour ?” 

“ We draw a little from the ship, according to rule, sir, but 
we can’t go as many puddings latterly as we could before we 
touched last at the Havana,” answered the laughing midship- 


128 


JACK TIER. 


man. “ There isn’t a fellow among us, sir, that could pay a 
shore-boat for landing him, should we go in again before the 
end of another month. I never knew such a place as Havana. 
They say midshipmen’s money melts there twice as soon as lieu¬ 
tenants’ money.” 

“ It’s clear, then, yoyJll not take any of the ten. I am afraid 
after all, Mr. Spike, we cannot trade, unless you will consent to 
let me have two barrels. I’ll venture on two at ten dollars, high 
as the price is.” 

“I shouldn’t forgive myself in six months for making so 
bad a bargain, lieutenant, so we’ll say no more about it, if you 
please.” 

“Here is a lady that wishes to say a word to you, Mr. 
Wallace, before we go back to the ship, if you are at leisure to 
hear her, or them —for there are two of them,” put in Archer. 

At this moment Mrs. Budd was approaching with a dignified 
step, while Rose followed timidly a little in the rear. Wallace 
was a good deal surprised at this application, and Spike was 
quite as much provoked. As for Mulford, he watched the in¬ 
terview from a distance, a great deal more interested in its 
result than he cared to have known, more especially to his 
commanding officer. Its object was to get a passage in the 
vessel of war. 

“You are an oflicer of that Uncle Sam vessel,” commenced 
Mrs. Budd, who thought that she would so much the more 
command the respect and attention of her listener, by showing 
him early how familiar she was with even the slang dialect of 
the seas. 

“ I have the honor, ma’am, to belong to that Uncle Sam craft,” 
answered Wallace gravely, though he bowed politely at the 
same time, looking intently at the beautiful girl in the back¬ 
ground as he so did. 

“ So I’ve been told, sir. She’s a beautiful vessel, lieutenant, 
and is full jiggered, I perceive.” 

For the first time in his life, or at least for the first time since 


JACK TIER. 


129 


his first cruise, Wallace wore a mystified look, being absolutely 
at a loss to imagine what “ full jiggered” could mean. He only 
looked, therefore, for he did not answer. 

“ Mrs. Budd means that you’ve a i\x\\-rigged craft,” put in 
Spike, anxious to have a voice in the conference, “ this vessel 
being only a Aa/f-rigged brig.” 

“ Oh! ay; yes, yes—the lady is quite right. We are full 
jiggered from our dead-eyes to our eye-bolts.” 

“ I thought as much, sir, from your ground hamper and top- 
tackles,” added the relict smiling. “ For my part there is noth¬ 
ing in nature that I so much admire as a full-jiggered ship, with 
her canvas out of the bolt-ropes, and her clew-lines and clew- 
garnets braced sharp, and her yards all abroad.” 

“ Yes, ma’am, it is just as you say, a very charming spectacle. 
Our baby was born full grown, and with all her hamper aloft 
just as you see her. Some persons refer vessels to art, but I 
think you are quite right in referring them to nature.” 

“Nothing can be more natural to me, lieutenant, than a fine 
ship standing on her canvas. It’s an object to improve the heart 
and to soften the understanding.” 

“ So I should think, ma’am,” returned Wallace, a little quiz¬ 
zically, “judging from the effect on yourself.” 

This speech, unfortunately timed as it was, wrought a complete 
change in Rose’s feelings, and she no longer wished to exchange 
the Swash for the Poughkeepsie. She saw that her aunt was 
laughed at in secret, and that was a circumstance that never 
failed to grate on every nerve in her system. She had been pre¬ 
pared to second and sustain the intended application—she was 
now determined to oppose it. 

“ Yes, sir,” resumed the unconscious relict, “ and to soften the 
understanding. Lieutenant, did you ever cross the Capricorn ?” 

“No less than six times; three going and three returning, 
you know.” 

“And did Neptune come on board you, and were you 
shaved?” 


6^ 


130 


JACK TIER. 


“ Every thing was done secnndem artem^ ma’am. The razor 
was quite an example of what are called in poetry ‘ thoughts too 
deep for tears.’ ” 

“That must have been delightful. As for me, I’m quite a 
devotee of Neptune’s; but I’m losing time, for no doubt your 
ship is all ready to pull away and carry on sail— 

“ Aunt, may I say a word to you before you go any further,” 
put in Rose in her quiet but very controlling way. 

The aunt complied, and Wallace, as soon as left alone, felt 
like a man who was released from a-quicksand, into which 
every effort to extricate himself only plunged him so much the 
deeper. At this moment the ship hailed, and the lieutenant 
took a hasty leave of Spike, motioned to the midshipman to 
precede him, and followed the latter into his boat. Spike saw 
his visitor off in person, tending the side, and offering the man- 
ropes with his own hands. For this civility Wallace thanked 
him, calling out as his boat pulled him from the brig’s side— 
“If we away,’” accenting the “pull” in secret derision of 
the relict’s mistake, “ you can ^pull away; our filling the topsail 
being a sign for you to do the same.” 

“ There you go, and joy go with you,” muttered Spike, as he 
descended from the gangway. “ A pretty kettle of fish would 
there have been cooked had I let him have his two barrels of 
flour.” 

The man-of-war’s cutter was soon under the lee of the ship, 
where it discharged its freight, when it was immediately run up. 
During the whole time Wallace had been absent. Captain Mull 
and his officers remained on the poop, principally occupied 
in examining and discussing the merits of the Swash. No 
sooner had their officer returned, however, than an order was 
given to fill away, it being supposed that the Poughkeepsie had 
no further concern with the brigantine. As for Wallace, he as¬ 
cended to the poop and made the customary report. 

“ It’s a queer cargo to be carrying to Key West from the 
Atlantic coast,” observed the captain, in a deliberating sort of 


JACK TIER. 


131 


manner, as if the circumstance excited suspicion ; “ yet the Mex¬ 
icans can hardly be in want of any such supplies.” 

“ Did you see the flour, Wallace ?” inquired the flrst lieutenant, 
who was well aware of his messmate’s indolence. 

“Yes, sir, im^felt it too. The lower hold of the brig is full 
of flour, and of nothing else.” 

“Ware round, sir—ware round and pass athwart the brig’s 
wake,” interrupted the captain. “There’s plenty of room now, 
and I wish to pass as near that craft as we can.” 

This manoeuvre was executed. The sloop-of-war no sooner 
filled her main-topsail than she drew ahead, leaving plenty of 
room for the brigantine to make sail on her course. Spike did 
not profit by this opening, however, but he sent several men aloft 
forward, where they appeared to be getting ready to send down 
the upper yards and the topgallant-mast. No sooner was the 
sloop-of-war’s helm put up than that vessel passed close along the 
brigantine’s weather side, and kept off across her stern on her 
course. As she did this, the canvas was fluttering aboard her, 
in the process of making sail, and Mull held a short discourse 
with Spike. 

“ Is any thing the matter aloft ?” demanded the man-of-war’s 
man. 

“ Ay, ay ; I’ve sprung my topgallant-mast, and think this a 
good occasion to get another up in its place.” 

“ Shall I lend you a carpenter or two, Mr. Spike ?” 

“Thank’ee, sir; thank’ee with all my heart; but we can do 
without them. It’s an old stick, and it’s high time a better 
stood where it does. Who knows but I may be chased and 
feel the want of reliable spars!” 

Captain Mull smiled, and raised his cap in the way of an 
adieu, when the conversation ended; the Poughkeepsie sliding 
off rapidly with a free wind, leaving the Swash nearly stationary. 
In ten minutes the two vessels were more than a mile apart; 
in twenty, beyond the reach of shot. 

Notwithstanding the natural and common-place manner in 


132 


JACK TIER. 


which this separation took place, there was much distrust on 
board each vessel, and a good deal of consummate manage¬ 
ment on the part of Spike. The latter knew that every foot the 
sloop-of-war went on her course, carried her just so far to lee¬ 
ward, placing his own brig to that extent dead to windward of 
her. As the Swash’s best point of sailing, relatively considered, 
was close-hauled, this was giving to Spike a great security 
against any change of purpose on the part of the vessel of war. 
Although his people were aloft and actually sent down the top¬ 
gallant-mast, it was only to send it up again, the spar being of 
admirable toughness, and as sound as the day it was cut. 

“ I don’t think, Mr. Mulford,” said the captain, sarcastically, 
“ that Uncle Sam’s glasses are good enough to tell the difference 
in wood at two leagues’ distance, so we’ll trust to the old stick 
a little longer. Ay, ay, let ’em run off before it, we’ll find 
another road by which to reach our port.” 

“ The sloop-of-war is going round the south side of Cuba, 
Captain Spike,” answered the mate, “ and I have understood you 
to say that you intended to go by the same passage.” 

“ A body may change his mind, and no murder. Only con¬ 
sider, Harry, how common it is for folks to change their minds. 
I did intend to pass between Cuba and Jamaica, but I intend it 
no longer. Our run from Montauk has been oncommon short, 
and I’ve time enough to spare to go to the southward of Jamaica 
too, if the notion takes me.” 

“ That would greatly prolong the passage. Captain Spike,— 
a week at least.” 

“ What if it does—I’ve a week to spare; we’re nine days 
afore our time.” 

“ Our time for what, sir ? Is there any particular time set 
for a vessel’s going into Key West ?” 

“ Don’t be womanish and over-cur’ous, Mulford. I sail with 
sealed orders, and when we get well to windward of Jamaica, 
’twill be time enough to open them.” 

Spike was as good as his word. As soon as he thought the 


JACK TIER. 


133 


sloop-of-war was far enough to leeward, or when she was hull 
down, he filled away and made sail on the wind to get nearer to 
Porto Rico. Long ere it was dark he had lost sight of the 
sloop-of-war, when he altered his course to southwesterly, which 
was carrying him in the direction he named, or to windward of 
Jamaica. 

While this artifice was being practised on board the Molly 
Swash, the ofiicers of the Poughkeepsie were not quite satisfied 
with their own mode of proceeding with the brigantine. The 
more they reasoned on the matter, the more unlikely it seemed 
to them that Spike could be really carrying a cargo of flour 
from New York to Key West, in the expectation of disposing of 
it to the United States contractors, and the more out of the 
way did he seem to be in running through the Mona Passage. 

“ His true course should have been by the Hole in the Wall, 
and so down along the north side of Cuba, before the wind,” ob¬ 
served the first lieutenant. “ I wonder that never struck you, 
Wallace; you^ who so little like trouble.” 

“ Certainly I knew it, but we lazy people like running off be¬ 
fore the wind, and I did not know but such were Mr. Spike’s 
tastes,” answered the ship’s gentleman. “In my judgment the 
reluctance he showed to letting us have any of his flour is much 
the most suspicious circumstance in the whole affair.” 

These two sj)eeches were made on the poop, in the presence 
of the captain, but in a sort of an aside that admitted of some of 
the wardroom familiarity exhibited. Captain Mull was not sup¬ 
posed to hear what passed, though hear it he in fact did, as was 
seen by his o-wn remarks, which immediately succeeded. 

“ I understood you to say, Mr. Wallace,” observed the cap¬ 
tain, a little drily, “that you saw the flour yourself?” 

“ I saw the ^ouv-harrels^ sir; and as regularly built were they 
as any barrels that ever were branded. But a flour-barrel may 
have contained something besides jiourT 

“ Flour usually makes itself visible in the handling; were 
these barrels quite clean ?” 


134 


JACK TIE II. 


“ Far from it, sir. They showed flour on their staves, like 
any other cargo. After all, the man may have more sense than 
we give him credit for, and find a high market for his cargo.” 

Captain Mull seemed to muse, which was a hint for his 
juniors not to continue the conversation, but rather to seem to 
muse, too. After a short pause, the captain quietly remarked— 
“ Well, gentlemen, he will be coming down after us, I suppose, 
as soon as he gets his new topgallant-mast on-end, and then we 
can keep a bright look-out for him. We shall cruise off Cape 
San Antonio for a day or two, and no doubt shall get another 
look at him. I should like to have one baking from his flour.” 

But Spike had no intention to give the Poughkeepsie the de¬ 
sired opportunity. As has been stated, he stood off to the 
southward on a wind, and completely doubled the eastern end 
of Jamaica, when he put his helm up, and went, with favoring 
wind and current, towards the northward and westward. The 
consequence was, that he did not fall in with the Poughkeepsie 
at all, which vessel was keeping a sharp look-out for him in the 
neighborhood of Cape San Antonio and the Isle of Pines, at the 
very moment he was running down the coast of Yucatan. Of 
all the large maritime countries of the world, Mexico, on the 
Atlantic, is that which is the most easily blockaded by a su¬ 
perior naval power. By maintaining a proper force between 
Key West and the Havana, and another squadron between 
Cape San Antonio and Loggerhead Key, the whole country, the 
Bay of Honduras excepted, is shut up, as it might be in a band- 
box. It is true the Gulf would be left open to the Mexicans, 
were not squadrons kept nearer in; but as for any thing getting 
out into the broad Atlantic, it would be next to hopeless. The 
distance to be watched between the Havana and Key West is 
only about sixty miles, while that in the other direction is not 
much greater. 

While the Swash was making the circuit of Jamaica, as de¬ 
scribed, her captain had little communication with his passen¬ 
gers. The misunderstanding with the relict embarrassed him as 


JACK TIER. 


135 


much as it embarrassed her; and he was quite willing to let 
time mitigate her resentment. Rose would be just as much in 
his power a fortnight hence as she was to-day. This cessation 
in the captain’s attentions gave the females greater liberty, and 
they improved it, singularly enough as it seemed to Mulford, by 
cultivating a strange sort of intimacy with Jack Tier. The very 
day that succeeded the delicate conversation with Mrs. Budd, to 
a part of which Jack had been an auditor, the uncouth-looking 
steward’s assistant was seen in close conference with the pretty 
Rose ; the subject of their conversation being, apparently, of a 
most engrossing nature. From that hour, Jack got to be not 
only a confidant, but a favorite, to Mulford’s great surprise. A 
less inviting subject for tUe-a-tUes and confidential dialogues, 
thought the young man, could not well exist; but so it was : 
woman’s caprices are inexplicable; and not only Rose and her 
aunt, but even the captious and somewhat distrustful Biddy, 
manifested on all occasions not only friendship, but kindness and 
consideration for Jack. 

“ You quite put my nose -out o’ joint, you Jack Tier, with e 
lady,” grumbled Josh, the steward de jure^ if not now de facto, 
of the craft, “ and I neber see nuttin’ like it! I s’pose you ex¬ 
pect ten dollar, at least, from dem passenger, when we gets in. 
But I’d have you to know, Misser Jack, if you please, dat a 
steward be a steward, and he don’t like to liab trick played wid 
him, afore he own face.” 

“Poll! poh ! Joshua,” answered Jack good-naturedly, “don’t 
distress yourself on a consait. In the first place, you’ve got no 
nose to be put out of joint; or, if you have really a nose, it has 
no joint. It’s nat’ral for folks to like their own color, and the 
ladies prefar me, because I’m white.” 

“ No so werry white as all dat, nudder,” grumbled Josh. “ I 
see great many whiter dan you. But, if dem lady like you so 
much as to gib you ten dollar, as I expects, when we gets in, I 
presumes you’ll hand over half, or six dollar, of dat money to 
your superior officer, as is law in de case.” 


136 


JACK TIER. 


“Do you call six the half of ten, Joshua, my scholar, eh ?” 

“Well, den, seven, if you like dat better. I wants just half, 
and just half I means to git.” 

“ And half you shall have, maty. I only wish you would just 
tell me where we shall be, when we gets in.” 

“ How I know, white man ? Dat belong to skipper, and bet¬ 
ter ask him. If he don’t gib you lick in de chop, p’rhaps he 
tell you.” 

As Jack Tier had no taste for “ licks in the chops,” he did not 
follow Josh’s advice. But his agreeing to give half of the ten 
dollars to the steward kept peace in the cabins. He was even 
so scrupulous of his word, as to hand to Josh a half-eagle that 
very day—money he had received from Rose ; saying he would 
trust to Providence for his own half of the expected douceur. 
This concession placed Jack Tier on high grounds with his 
“ superior officer,” and from that time the former was left to do 
the whole of the customary service of the ladies’ cabin. 

As respects the vessel, nothing worthy of notice occurred 
until she had passed Loggerhead Key, and was fairly launch¬ 
ed in the Gulf of Mexico. Then, indeed. Spike took a step 
that greatly surprised his mate. The latter was directed to 
bring all his instruments, charts, Ac., and place them in the 
captain’s stateroom, where it was understood they were to re¬ 
main until the brig got into port. Spike was but an indifterent 
navigator, while Mulford was one of a higher order than com¬ 
mon. So much had the former been accustomed to rely on 
the latter, indeed, as they approached a strange coast, that he 
could not possibly have taken any step, that was not positively 
criminal, which would have given his mate more uneasiness 
than this. 

At first, Mulford naturally enough suspected that Spike in¬ 
tended to push for some Mexican port, by thus blinding his 
eyes as to the position of the vessel. The direction steered, 
however, soon relieved the mate from this apprehension. From 
the eastern extremity of Yucatan, the Mexican coast trends 


JACK TIER. 


137 


to the westward, and even to the south of west, for a long 
distance, whereas the course steered by Spike was northeasterly. 
This was diverging from the enemy’s coast instead of approach¬ 
ing it, and the circumstance greatly relieved the apprehensions 
of Mulford. 

Nor was the sequestration of the mate’s instruments the only 
suspicious act of Spike, He caused the brig’s paint to be en¬ 
tirely altered, and even went so far towards disguising her, as 
to make some changes aloft. All this was done as the vessel 
passed swiftly on her course, and every thing had been effected, 
apparently to the captain’s satisfaction, when the cry of “ land- 
ho!” was once more heard. The land proved to be a cluster of 
low, small islands, part coral, part sand, that might have been 
eight or ten in number, and the largest of which did not possess 
a surface of more than a very few acres. Many were the merest 
islets imaginable, and on one of the largest of the cluster rose 
a tall, gaunt lighthouse, having the customary dwelling of its 
keeper at its base. Nothing else was visible; the broad expanse 
of the blue waters of the Gulf excepted. All the land in sight 
would not probably have made one field of twenty acres in 
extent, and that seemed cut off from the rest of the world by 
a broad barrier of water. It was a spot of such singular situa¬ 
tion and accessories, that Mulford gazed at it with a burning 
desire to know where he was, as the brig steered through a 
channel between two of the islets, into a capacious and perfectly 
safe basin, formed by the group, and dropped her anchor in its 
centre. 


138 


JACK TIER, 


CHAPTER V. 

“ He sleeps; but dreams of massy gold, 

And heaps of pearl. He stretch’d his hands— 

He hears a voice—' Ill man, withhold 1’ 

A pale one near him stands.” 

Dana. 

It was near night-fall when the Swash anchored among the 
low and small islets mentioned. Rose had been on deck, as 
the vessel approached this singular and solitary haven, watching 
the movements of those on board, as well as the appearance of 
objects on the land, with the interest her situation would be 
likely to awaken. She saw the light and manageable craft 
glide through the narrow and crooked passages that led into 
the port, the process of anchoring, and the scene of tranquil 
solitude that succeeded ; each following the other as by a law 
of nature. The lighthouse next attracted her attention, and, 
as soon as the sun disappeared, her eyes were fastened on the 
lantern, in expectation of beholding the watchful and warning 
fires gleaming there, to give the mariner notice of the position 
of the dangers that surrounded the place. Minute went by 
after minute, however, and the customary illumination seemed 
to be forgotten. 

“ Why is not this light shining ?” Rose asked of Mulford, as 
the young man came near her, after having discharged his duty 
in helping to moor the vessel, and in clearing the decks. “ All 
the lighthouses we have passed, and they have been fifty, have 
shown bright lights at this hour, but this.” 

“ I cannot explain it; nor have I the smallest notion where 
we are. I have been aloft, and there was nothing in sight but 


JACK TIER. 


139 


this cluster of low islets, far or near. I did fancy, for a mo¬ 
ment, I saw a speck like a distant sail off here to the north¬ 
ward and eastward, but I rather think it was a gull, or some 
other sea-bird glancing upward on the wing. I mentioned it 
to the captain when I came down, and he appeared to believe 
it a mistake. I have watched that lighthouse closely, too, ever 
since we came in, and I have not seen, the smallest sign of life 
about it. It is altogether an extraordinary place 1” 

“ One suited to acts of villany, I fear, Harry!” 

“ Of that we shall be better judges to-morrow. You, at least, 
have one vigilant friend, who will die sooner than harm shall 
come to you. I believe Spike to be thoroughly unprincipled; 
still he knows he can go so far and no farther, and has a whole¬ 
some dread of the law. But the circumstance that there should 
be such a port as this, with a regular lighthouse, and no person 
near the last, is so much out of the common way, that I do not 
know what to make of it.” 

“ Perhaps the lighthouse-keeper is afraid to show himself in 
the presence of the Swash ?” 

“ That can hardly be, for vessels must often enter the port, if 
port it can be called. But Spike is as much concerned at the 
circumstance that the lamps are not lighted, as any of us can 
be. Look, he is about to visit the building in the boat, accom¬ 
panied by two of his oldest sea-dogs!” 

“ Why might we not raise the anchor, and sail out of this 
place, leaving Spike ashore ?” suggested Kose, with more decision 
and spirit than discretion. 

“ For the simple reason that the act would be piracy, even if 
I could get the rest of the people to obey my orders, as certainly 
I could not. Ho, Rose; you, and your aunt, and Biddy, how¬ 
ever, might land at these buildings, and refuse to return. Spike 
having no authority over his passengers.” 

“ Still he would have the power to make us come back to his 
brig. Look, he has left the vessel’s side, and is going directly 
towards the lighthouse.” 


140 


JACK TIER. 


Mulford made no immediate answer, but remained at Rose’s 
side, watching the movements of the captain. The last pulled 
directly to the islet with the buildings, a distance of only a few 
hundred feet, the lighthouse being constructed on a rocky island 
that was nearly in the centre of the cluster, most probably to 
protect it from the ravages of the waves. The fact, however, 
proved, as Mulford did not fail to suggest to his companion, that 
the beacon had been erected less to guide vessels into the haven, 
than to warn mariners at a distance, of the position of the whole 
group. 

In less than five minutes after he had landed. Spike himself 
was seen in the lantern, in the act of lighting its lamps. In a 
very short time the place was in a brilliant blaze, reflectors and 
all the other parts of the machinery of the place performing 
their duties as regularly as if tended by the usual keeper. Soon 
after, Spike returned on board, and the anchor-watch was set. 
Then everybody sought the rest that it was customary to take at 
that hour. 

Mulford was on deck with the appearance of the sun; but 
he found that Spike had preceded him, had gone ashore again, 
had extinguished the lamps, and was coming alongside of the 
brig on his return. A minute later the captain came over the 
side. 

“You were right about your sail, last night, a’ter all, Mr. 
Mulford,” said Spike, on coming aft. “There she is, sure 
enough; and we shall have her alongside to strike cargo out 
and in, by the time the people have got their breakfasts.” 

As Spike pointed towards the lighthouse while speaking, the 
mate changed his position a little, and saw that a schooner was • 
coming down towards the islets before the wind. Mulford now 
began to understand the motives of the captain’s proceedings, 
though a good deal yet remained veiled in mystery. He could 
not tell where the brig was, nor did he know precisely why so 
many expedients were adopted to conceal the transfer of a cargo 
BO simple as that of flour. But he who was in the secret left 


JACK TIER. 


141 


but little time for reflection; for, swallowing a hasty breakfast 
on deck, he issued orders enough to his mate to give him quite 
as much duty as he could perform, when he again entered the 
yawl, and pulled towards the stranger. 

Rose soon appeared on deck, and she naturally began to 
question Harry concerning their position and prospects. He 
was confessing his ignorance, as well as lamenting it, when his 
companion’s sweet face suddenly flushed. She advanced a step 
eagerly towards the open window of Spike’s stateroom, then 
compressed her full, rich under lip with the ivory of her upper 
teeth, and stood a single instant a beautiful statue of irresolution 
instigated by spirit. The last quality prevailed; and Mulford 
was really startled when he saw Rose advance quite to the 
window, thrust in an arm, and turn towards him with his own 
sextant in her hand. During the course of the passage out, the 
young man had taught Rose to assist him in observing the 
longitude; and she was now ready to repeat the practice. Not 
a moment was lost in executing her intention. Sights were 
had, and the instrument was returned to its place without 
attracting the attention of the men, who were all busy in 
getting up purchases, and in making the other necessary dis¬ 
positions for discharging the flour. The observations answered 
the purpose, though somewhat imperfectly made. Mulford had 
a tolerable notion of their latitude, having kept the brig’s run in 
his head since quitting Yucatan; and he now found that their 
longitude was about 83° west from Greenwich. After ascer¬ 
taining this fact, a glance at the open chart, which lay on 
Spike’s desk, satisfied him that the vessel was anchored within 
the group of the Dry Tortugas, or at the western termination of 
the w'ell-known, formidable, and extensive Florida Reef. He 
had never been in that part of the world before, but had heard 
enough in sea-gossip, and had read enough in books, to be at 
once apprised of the true character of their situation. The islets 
were American; the lighthouse was American; and the haven 
in which the Swash lay was the very spot in the contemplation 


142 


JACK TIER. 


of government for an outer man-of-war harbor, where fleets 
might rendezvous in the future wars of that portion of the 
world. He now saw plainly enough the signs of the existence 
of a vast reef, a short distance to the southward of the vessel, 
that formed a species of sea-wall, or mole, to protect the port 
against the waves of the Gulf in that direction. This reef he 
knew to be miles in width. 

There was little time for speculation. Spike soon bringing the 
strange schooner directly alongside of the brig. The two vessels 
immediately became a scene of activity, one discharging, and 
the other receiving the flour as fast as it could be struck out 
of the hold of the Swash and lowered upon the deck of the 
schooner. Mulford, however, had practised a little artifice, as 
the stranger entered the haven, which drew dowm upon him an 
anathema or two from Spike, as soon as they were alone. The 
mate had set the brig’s ensign, and this compelled the stranger 
to be markedly rude, or to answer the compliment. Accord¬ 
ingly he had shown the ancient flag of Spain. For thus extort¬ 
ing a national symbol from the schooner, the mate was sharply 
rebuked at a suitable moment, though nothing could have been 
more forbearing than the deportment of his commander when 
they first met. 

When Spike returned to his own vessel, he was accompanied 
by a dark-lookiug, well-dressed, and decidedly gentleman-like 
personage, whom he addressed indifferently, in his very im¬ 
perfect Spanish, as Don Wan (Don Juan, or John), or Senor 
Montefalderon. By the latter appellation he even saw fit to 
introduce the very respectable-looking stranger to his mate. 
This stranger spoke English well, though with an accent. 

“Don Wan has taken all the flour, Mr. Mulford, and intends 
shoving it over into Cuba, without troubling the custom-house, 
I believe; but that is not a matter to give us any concern, you 
know.” 

The wink, and the knowing look by which this speech was 
accompanied, seemed particularly disagreeable to Don Juan, 


JACK TIER. 


143 


who now paid his compliments to Rose, with no little surprise 
betrayed in his countenance, but with the ease and reserve of a 
gentleman. Mulford thought it strange that a smuggler of flour 
should be so polished a personage, though his duty did not 
admit of his bestowing much attention on the little trifling of 
the interview that succeeded. 

For about an hour the work went steadily and rapidly on. 
During that time Mulford was several times on board the 
schooner, as, indeed, was Josh, Jack Tier, and others belonging 
to the Swash. The Spanish vessel was Baltimore or clipper 
built, with a trunk-cabin, and had every appearance of sailing 
fast. Mulford was struck with her model, and, while on board 
of her, he passed both forward and aft to examine it. This was 
so natural in a seaman, that Spike, while he noted the proceed¬ 
ing, took it in good part. He even called out to his mate, 
from his own quarter-deck, to admire this or that point in the 
schooner’s construction. As is customary with the vessels of 
southern nations, this stranger was full of men, but they con¬ 
tinued at their work, some half dozen of brawny negroes among 
them, shouting their songs as they swayed at the falls, no one 
appearing to manifest jealousy or concern. At length Tier 
came near the mate, and said— 

“ Uncle Sam will not be pleased when he hears the reason 
that the keeper is not in his lighthouse.” 

“ And what is that reason. Jack ? If you know it, tell it to 
me.” 

“ Go aft and look down the companion-way, maty, and see it 
for yourself.” 

Mulford did go aft, and he made an occasion to look down 
into’ the schooner’s cabin, where he caught a glimpse of the 
persons of a man and a boy, whom he at once supposed had 
been taken from the lighthouse. This one fact of itself doubled 
his distrust of the character of Spike’s proceedings. There was 
no sufficient apparent reason wdiy a mere smuggler should care 
about the presence of an individual more or less in a foreign 


144 


JACK TIER. 


port. Every thing that had occurred looked like preconcert be¬ 
tween the brig and the schooner; and the mate was just begin¬ 
ning to entertain the strongest distrust that their vessel was 
holding treasonable communication with the enemy, when an 
accident removed all doubt on the subject, from his own mind 
at least. Spike had, once or twice, given his opinion that the 
weather was treacherous, and urged the people of both crafts to 
extraordinary exertions, in order that the vessels might get clear 
of each other as soon as possible. This appeal had set various 
expedients in motion to second the more regular work of the 
purchases. Among other things, planks had been laid from one 
vessel to the other, and barrels were rolled along them with 
very little attention to the speed or the direction. Several had 
fallen on the schooner’s deck with rude shocks, but no damage 
was done, until one, of which the hoops had not been properly 
secured, met with a fall, and burst nearly at Mulford’s feet. It 
was at the precise moment when the mate was returning from 
taking his glance into the cabin, towards the side of the Swash. 
A white cloud arose, and half a dozen of the schooner’s people 
sprang for buckets, kids, or dishes, in order to secure enough of 
the contents of the broken barrel to furnish them with a meal. 
At first nothing was visible but the white cloud that succeeded 
the fall, and the scrambling sailors in its midst. No sooner, 
however, had the air got to be a little clear, than Mulford saw 
an object lying in the centre of the wreck, that he at once recog¬ 
nized for a keg of gunpowder! The captain of the schooner 
seized this keg, gave a knowing look at Mulford, and disap¬ 
peared in the hold of his own vessel, carrying with him what 
was out of all question a most material part of the true cargo 
of the Swash. 

At the moment when the flour-barrel burst. Spike was below, 
in close conference with his Spanish or Mexican guest; and the 
wreck being so soon cleared away, it is probable that he never 
heard of the accident. As for the two crews, they laughed a 
little among themselves at the revelation which had been made, 


JACK TIER. 


145 


as well as at the manner; but to old sea-dogs like them, it was 
a matter of very little moment whether the cargo was, in reality, 
flour or gunpowder. In a few minutes the afthir seemed to be 
forgotten. In the course of another hour the Swash was light, 
having nothing in her but some pig-lead, which she used for 
ballast, while the schooner was loaded to her hatches, and full. 
Spike now sent a boat with orders to drop a kedge about a 
hundred yards from the place where his own brig lay. The 
schooner warped up to this kedge, and dropped an anchor of 
her own, leaving a very short range of cable out, it being a flat 
calm. Ordinarily, the trades prevail at the Dry Tortugas, and 
all along the Florida Reef. Sometimes, indeed, this breeze 
sweeps across the whole width of the Gulf of Mexico, blowing 
home, as it is called—reaching even to the coast of Texas. It 
is subject, however, to occasional interruptions everywhere, vary¬ 
ing many points in its direction, and occasionally ceasing 
entirely. The latter was the condition of the weather about 
noon on this day, or when the schooner hauled off from the 
brig, and was secured at her own anchor. 

“ Mr. Mulford,” said Spike, “ I do not like the state of the 
atmosphere. D’ye see that fiery streak along the western hori¬ 
zon ? Well, sir, as the sun gets nearer to that streak, there’ll be 
trouble, or I’m no judge of weather.” 

“You surely do not imagine. Captain Spike, that the sun 
will be any nearer to that fiery streak, as you call it, when he 
is about to set, than he is at this moment ?” answered the mate, 
smiling. 

“ I’m sure of one thing, young man, and that is, that old 
heads are better than young ones. What a man has once seen, 
he may expect to see again, if the same leading signs offer. 
Man the boat, sir, and carry out the kedge, which is still in it, 
and lay it off here, about three p’ints on our larboard bow.” 

Mulford had a profound respect for Spike’s seamanship, what¬ 
ever he might think of his principles. The order was conse¬ 
quently obeyed. The mate was then directed to send down 

1 


140 


JACK TIER. 


various articles out of the top, and to get the topgallant and 
royal yards on deck. Spike carried his precautions so far as to 
have the mainsail lowered, it ordinarily hrailing at that season 
of the year, with a standing gaff. With this disposition com¬ 
pleted, the captain seemed more at his ease, and went below 
to join Senor Montefalderon in a siesta. The Mexican, for such, 
in truth, was the national character of the owner of the schooner, 
had preceded him in this indulgence; and most of the people 
of the brig having laid themselves down to sleep under the heat 
of the hour, Mulford soon enjoyed another favorable opportunity 
for a private conference with Rose. 

“ Harry,” commenced the latter, as soon as they were alone, 
“ I have much to tell you. While you have been absent, I 
have overheard a conversation between this Spanish gentleman 
and Spike that shows the last is in treaty with the other for the 
sale of the brig. Spike extolled his vessel to the skies, while 
Don Wan, as he calls him, complains that the brig is old and 
cannot last long; to which Spike answered: ‘ To be sure she is 
old, Senor Montefalderon, but she will last as long as your war, 
and under a bold captain might be made to return her cost a 
hundred-fold!’ What war can he mean, and to what does 
such a discourse tend ?” 

“ The war alludes to the war now existing between America 
and Mexico, and the money to be made is to be plundered at 
sea, from our own merchant-vessels. If Don Juan Montefalde¬ 
ron is really in treaty for the purchase of the brig, it is to con¬ 
vert her into a Mexican cruiser, either public or private.” 

“ But this would be treason on the part of Spike!” 

“ Not more so than supplying the enemy with gunpowder, as 
he has just been doing. I have ascertained the reason he was 
so unwilling to be overhauled by the revenue steamer, as well 
as the reason why the revenue steamer wished so earnestly to 
overhaul us. Each barrel of flour contains another of gunpow¬ 
der, and that has been sold to this Senor Montefalderon, who is 
doubtless an officer of the Mexican government, and no smuggler.” 


JACK TIER. 


167 


and while he felt as one would be apt to feel who had recently 
seen so many associates swept suddenly out of existence, the 
late catastrophe did not in the least unman him. It is too 
much the habit of the American people to receive their impres¬ 
sions from newspapers, which throw oflf their articles unreflect¬ 
ingly, and often ignorantly, as crones in petticoats utter their 
gossip. In a word, the opinions thus obtained are very much 
on a level, in value, with the thoughts of those who are said to 
think aloud, and who give utterance to all the crudities and 
trivial rumors that may happen to reach their ears. In this 
manner, we apprehend, very false notions of our neighbors of 
Mexico have become circulated among us. That nation is a 
mixed race, and has necessarily the various characteristics of 
such an origin; and it is, unfortunately, little influenced by the 
diffusion of intelligence which certainly exists here. Although 
an enemy, it ought to be acknowledged, however, that even 
Mexico has her redeeming points. Anglo-Saxons as we are, we 
have no desire unnecessarily to illustrate that very marked 
feature in the Anglo-Saxon character, which prompts the mother 
stock to calumniate all who oppose it, but would rather adopt 
some of that chivalrous courtesy of which so much that is lofty 
and commendable is to be found among the descendants of Old 
Spain. 

The Senor Montefalderon was earnestly engaged in what he 
conceived to be the cause of his country. It was scarcely pos- 
sible^to bring together two men impelled by motives more dis¬ 
tinct than Spike and this gentleman. The first was acting 
under impulses of the lowest and most grovelling nature; while 
the last was influenced by motives of the highest. However 
much Mexico may, and has, weakened her cause by her own 
punic faith, instability, military oppression, and political revolu¬ 
tions, giving to the Texans in particular ample justification for 
their revolt, it was not probable that Don Juan Montefalderon 
saw the force of all the arguments that a casuist of ordinary 
ingenuity could certainly adduce against his country; for it is 


168 


JACK TIER. 


a most unusual thing to find a man anywhere, who is willing 
to admit that the positions of an opponent are good. He saw, 
in the events of the day, a province wrested from his nation j 
and, in his reasoning on the subject, entirely overlooking the 
numerous occasions on which his own fiuctuating government 
had given sufficient justification, not to say motives, to their 
powerful neighbors, to take the law into their own hands, and 
redress themselves, he fancied all that has occurred was pre¬ 
viously planned ; instead of regarding it, as it truly is, as merely 
the result of political events that no man could have foreseen, 
that no man had originally imagined, or that any man could 
control. 

Don Juan understood Spike completely, and quite justly 
appreciated not only his character, but his capabilities. Their 
acquaintance was not of a day, though it had ever been marked 
by that singular combination of caution and reliance that is apt 
to characterize the intercourse between the knave and the 
honest man, when circumstances compel not only communica¬ 
tion, but, to a certain extent, confidence. They now paced the 
deck of the schooner, side by side, for fully an hour, during 
which time the price of the vessel, the means, and the mode of 
payment and transfer, were fully settled between them. 

“ But what will you do with your passengers, Don Esteban ?” 
asked the Mexican, pleasantly, when the more material points 
were adjusted. “ I feel a great interest in the young lady in 
particular, who is a charming senorita, and who tells me that 
her aunt brought her this voyage on account of her health. She 
looks much too blooming to be out of health; and if she were, 
this is a singular voyage for an invalid to make !” 

“ You don’t understand human natur’ yet, altogether, I see, 
Don Wan,” answered Spike, chuckling and winking. “As you 
and I are not only good friends, but what a body may call old 
friends. I’ll let you into a secret in this affair, well knowing that 
you’ll not betray it. It’s quite true that the old woman thinks 
her niece is a pulmonary, as they call it, and that this v’y’ge is 


JACK TIER. 


169 


recommended for her, but the gal is as healthy as she’s hand- 
som’.” 

“ Her constitution, then, must be very excellent, for it is sel¬ 
dom I have seen so charming a young woman. But if the ’aunt 
is misled in this matter, how has it been with the niece ?” 

Spike did not answer in words, but he leered upon his com¬ 
panion, and he winked. 

“You mean to be understood that you are in intelligence 
with each other, I suppose, Don Esteban ?” returned Sehor Mon- 
tefalderon, who did not like the captain’s manner, and was 
willing to drop the discourse. 

Spike then informed his companion, in confidence, that he 
and Rose were affianced, though without the aunt’s knowledge; 
that he intended to marry the niece the moment he reached a 
Mexican port with the brig, and that it was their joint intention 
to settle in the country. He added, that the affair required 
management, as his intended had property, and expected more, 
and he begged Don Juan to aid him, as things drew near to a 
crisis. The Mexican evaded an answer, and the discourse 
dropped. 

The moon was now shining, and would continue to throw its 
pale light over the scene for two or three hours longer. Spike 
profited by the circumstance to continue the work of lightening 
the schooner. One of the first things done next was to get up 
the dead, and to remove them to the boat. This melancholy 
office occupied an hour, the bodies being landed on the islet, 
near the powder, and there interred in the sands. Don Juan 
Montefalderon attended on this occasion, and repeated some 
prayers over the graves, as he had done in the morning, in the 
cases of the two who had been buried near the lighthouse. 

While this melancholy duty was in the course of performance, 
that of pumping and bailing was continued, under the imme¬ 
diate personal superintendence of Mulford. It would not be easy 
to define, with perfect clearness, the conflicting feelings by which 
the mate of the Swash was now impelled. He’had no longer 

8 


IVO 


JACK TIER, 


any doubt on the subject of Spike’s treason; and had it not 
been for Rose, he would not have hesitated a moment about 
making off in the lighthouse boat for Key West, in order to 
report all that had passed to the authorities. But not only 
Rose was there, and to be cared for, but what was far more diffi¬ 
cult to get along with, her aunt was with her. It is true, Mrs. 
Budd was no longer Spike’s dupe; but, under any circumstances, 
she was a difficult subject to manage, and most especially so in 
all matters that related to the sea. Then the young man sub¬ 
mitted, more or less, to the strange influence which a fine craft 
almost invariably obtains over those that belong to her. He 
did not like the idea of deserting the Swash, at the very moment 
he would not have hesitated about punishing her owner for his 
many misdeeds. In a word, Harry was too much of a tar not 
to feel a deep reluctance to turn against his cruise, or his voyage, 
however much either might be condemned by his judgment, 
or even by his principles. 

It was quite nine o’clock when the Senor Montefalderon and 
Spike returned from burying the dead. No sooner did the last 
put his foot on the deck of his own vessel, than he felt the fall 
of one of the purchases which had been employed in raising 
the schooner. It was so far slack as to satisfy him that the 
latter now floated by her own buoyancy, though it might be 
well to let all stand until morning, for the purposes of security. 
Thus apprised of the condition of the two vessels, he gave the 
welcome order to “ knock off for the night.” 


jack'^tier. 


171 


CHAPTER VI. 

“At the piping of all hands, 

When the judgment signal’s spread— 

When the islands and the land, 

And the seas give up their dead, 

And the south and the north shall come; 

When the sinner is dismayed. 

And the just man is afraid. 

Then heaven be thy aid. 

Poor Tom.” 

Bkainakd. 

The people had now a cessation from their toil. Of all the 
labor known to seafaring men, that of pumping is usually 
thought to be the most severe. Those who work at it have to 
be relieved every minute, and it is only by having gangs to 
succeed each other, that the duty can be done at all with any 
thing like steadiness.’ In the present instance, it is true that 
the people of the Swash were sustained by the love of gold, 
but glad enough were they when Mulford called out to them to 
“ knock off, and turn in for the nifyht.” It was hiofh time this 
summons should be made, for not only were the people exces¬ 
sively wearied, but the customary hours of labor were so far 
Fpent, that the light of the moon had some time before begun 
to blend with the little left by the parting sun. Glad enough 
were all h^nds to quit the toil; and two minutes were scarcely 
elapsed ere most of the crew had thrown themselves down, and 
were buried in deep sleep. Even Spike and Mulford took the 
rest they needed, the cook alone being left to look out for the 
changes in the weather. In a word, everybody but this idler 
was exhausted with pumping and bailing, and even gold had 
lost its power to charm, until nature was recruited by rest. 

The excitement produced by the scenes through which they 


1V2 


JACK TIER. 


had so lately passed, caused the females to sleep soundly, too. 
I'lie deathlike stillness which pervaded the vessel contributed to 
their rest, and Rose never woke, from the first few minutes after 
her head was on her pillow, until near four in the morning. 
The deep quiet seemed ominous to one who had so lately wit¬ 
nessed the calm which precedes the tornado, and she arose. In 
that low latitude and warm season, few clothes were necessary, 
and our heroine was on deck in a very few minutes. Here she 
found the same gravelike sleep pervading every thing. There 
was not a breath of air, and the ocean seemed to be in one of 
its profoundest slumbers. The hard breathing of Spike could 
be heard through the open windows of his stateroom, and this 
was positively the only sound that was audible. The common 
men, who lay scattered about the decks, more especially from 
the mainmast forward, seemed to be so many logs, and from 
Mulford no breathing was heard. 

The morning was neither very dark nor very light, it being 
easy to distinguish objects that were near, while those at a dis¬ 
tance were necessarily lost in obscurity. Availing herself of the 
circumstance. Rose went as far as the gangway, to ascertain if 
the cook were at his post. She saw him lying near his galley, 
in as profound a sleep as any of the crew. This she felt to 
be wrong, and she felt alarmed, though she knew not why. 
Perhaps it was the consciousness of being the only person up 
and awake at that hour of deepest night, in a vessel so situ¬ 
ated as the Swash, and in a climate in which hurricanes seem 
to be the natural offspring of the air. Some one must be 
aroused, and her tastes, feelings, and judgment all pointed to 
Harry Mulford as the person she ought to awaken. He slept 
habitually in his clothes—the lightest summer dress of the 
tropics; and the window of his little stateroom was always 
open for the admission of air. Moving lightly to the place, 
Rose laid her own little, soft hand on the arm of the young 
man, when the latter was on his feet in an instant. A sinjrle 
moment only was necessary to regain his consciousness, when 


JACK TIER. 


173 


Mulford left tlie stateroom and joined Rose on the quarter- 
deek. 

“ Why am I called, Rose,” the young man asked, attemper¬ 
ing his voice to the calm that reigned around him; “ and why 
am I called by you 

Rose explained the state of the brig, and the feeling which 
induced her to awaken him. With woman’s gentleness she 
now expressed her regret for having robbed Harry of his rest: 
had she reflected a moment, she might have kept watch her¬ 
self, and allowed him to obtain the sleep he must surely so 
much require. 

But Mulford laughed at this ; protested he had never been 
awakened at a more favorable moment, and would have sworn, 
had it been proper, that a minute’s further sleep would have 
been too much for him. After these first explanations, Mul¬ 
ford walked round the decks, carefully felt how much strain 
there was on the purchases, and rejoined Rose to report that 
all was right, and that he did not consider it necessary to call 
even the cook. The black was an idler in no sense but that 
of keeping watch, and he had toiled the past day as much as 
any of the men, though it was not exactly at the pumps. 

A long and semi-confidential conversation now occurred 
between Harry and Rose. They talked of Spike, the brig, and 
her cargo, and of the delusion of the captain’s widow. It was 
scarcely possible that powder should be so much wanted at 
the Havana as to render smuggling, at so much cost, a profit¬ 
able adventure; and Mulford admitted his convictions that the 
pretended flour was originally intended for Mexico. Rose 
related the tenor of the conversation she had overheard be¬ 
tween the two parties, Don Juan and Don Esteban, and the 
mate no longer doubted that it was Spike’s intention to sell 
the brig to the enemy. She also alluded to what had passed 
between herself and the stranger. 

Mulford took this occasion to introduce the subject of Jack 
Tier’s intimacy and favor with Rose. He even professed to 


174 


JACK TIER. 


feel some jealousy on account of it, little as there might be to 
alarm most men in the rivalry of such a competitor. Rose 
laughed, as girls will laugh when there is question of their 
power over the other sex, and she fairly shook her rich tresses 
as she declared her determination to continue to smile on 
Jack to the close of the voyage. Then, as if she had said 
more than she intended, she added, with woman’s generosity 
and tenderness— 

“ After all, Harry, you know how much I promised to you 
even before we sailed, and how much piore since, and have no 
just cause to dread even Jack. There is another reason, how¬ 
ever, that ought to set your mind entirely at ease on his 
account. Jack is married, and has a partner living at this 
very moment, as he does not scruple to avow himself.” 

A hissing noise, a bright light, and a slight explosion, inter¬ 
rupted the half-laughing girl, and Mulford, turning on his heel, 
quick as thought, saw that a rocket had shot into the air, from 
a point close under the bows of the brig. He was still in the 
act of moving towards the forecastle, when, at the distance of 
several leagues, he saw the explosion of another rocket high 
in the air. He knew enough of the practices of vessels of war, 
to feel certain that these were a signal and its answer from 
some one in the service of government. Not at all sorry to 
have the career of the Swash arrested, before she could pass 
into hostile hands, or before evil could befall Rose, Mulford 
reached the forecastle just in time to answer the inquiry that 
was immediately put to him in the way of a hail. A gig, pull¬ 
ing four oars only, with two officers in its stern-sheets, was fairly 
under the vessel’s bows, and the mate could almost distinguish 
the countenance of the officer who questioned him, the instant 
he showed his head and shoulders above the bulwarks. 

“ What vessels are these ?” demanded the stranger, speaking 
in the authoritative manner of one who acted for the State, 
but not speaking much above the usual conversational tone. 

“ American and Spanish,” was the answer. “ This brig is 


JACK TIER. 


175 


American—the s-chooner alongside is a Spaniard, that turned 
turtle in a tornado, about six-and-thirty hours since, and on 
which we have been hard at work trying to raise her, since 
the gale which succeeded the tornado has blown its pipe out.” 

“ Ay, ay, that’s the story, is it ? I did not know what to 
make of you, lying cheek by jowl, in this fashion. Was any¬ 
body lost on board the schooner ?” 

“ All hands, including every soul aft and forward, the super¬ 
cargo excepted, who happened to be aboard here. We buried 
seventeen of the bodies this afternoon on the smallest of the 
Keys that you see near at hand, and two this morning along¬ 
side of the light. But what boat is that, and where are you 
from, and whom are you signalling ?” 

“The boat is .a gig,” answered the stranger, deliberately, 
“and she belongs to a cruiser of Uncle Sam’s, that is off the 
reef, a short bit to the eastward, and we signalled our captain. 
But I’ll come on board you, sir, if you please.” 

Mulford walked aft to meet the stranger at the gangway, 
and was relieved, rather than otherwise, at finding that Spike 
was already on the quarter-deck. Should the vessel of war 
seize the brig, he could rejoice at it; but so strong were his 
professional ideas of duty to the craft he sailed in, that he did 
not find it in his heart to say aught against her. Were any 
mishap to befall it, or were justice to be done, he preferred 
that it might be done under Spike’s own supervision, rather 
than under his. 

“ Call all hands, Mr. Mulford,” said Spike, as they met. “ I 
see a streak of day coming yonder in the east—let all hands be 
called at once. What strange boat is this we have alongside ?” 

This question was put to the strangers. Spike standing on 
his gangway-ladder to ask it, while the mate was summoning 
the crew. Tlie officer saw that a new person was to be dealt 
with, and in his quiet, easy way, he answered, while stretch¬ 
ing out his hands to take the man-rope— 

“Your servant, sir—we are man-of-war’s men, belonging to 


176 


JACK TIER. 


one of Uncle Sam’s craft, outside, and have just come in to 
pay you a visit of ceremony. I told one, whom I suppose was 
your mate, that I would just step on hoard of you.” 

“ Ay, ay—one at a time, if you please. It’s w^ar-time, and 
I cannot suffer armed boat’s crews to board me at night, with¬ 
out knowing something about them. Come up yourself, if 
you please, but order your people to stay in the boat. Here, 
muster about this gangway, half a dozen of you, and keep an 
eye on the crew of this strange boat.” 

These orders had no effect on the cool and deliberate lieu¬ 
tenant, who ascended the brig’s side, and immediately stood 
on her deck. No sooner had he and Spike confronted each 
other, than each gave a little start, like that of recognition, 
and the lieutenant spoke. 

“ Ay, ay—I believe I know this vessel now. It is the Molly 
Swash, of New York, bound to Key West, and a market; and 
I have the honor to see Captain Stephen Spike again.” 

It was Mr. Wallace, the second lieutenant of the sloop-of- 
war that had boarded the brig in the Mona Passage, and to 
avoid wdiom Spike had gone to the southward of Jamaica. 
The meeting was very mal-a-propos^ but it would not do to 
betray that the captain and owner of the vessel thought as 
much as this; on the contrary, Wallace was warmly wel¬ 
comed, and received, not only as an old acquaintance, but as 
a very agreeable visitor. To have seen the two as they walked 
aft together, one might have supposed that the meeting was 
conducive of nothing but a very mutual satisfaction, it was so 
much like that which happens between those who keep up a 
hearty acquaintance. 

“Well, I’m glad to see you again. Captain Spike,” cried 
Wallace, after the greetings were passed, “if it be only to ask 
where you flew to, the day we left you in the Mona Passage ? 
We looked out for you with all our eyes, expecting you would 
be down between San Domingo and Jamaica, but I hardly 
think you got by us in the night. Our master thinks you 


JACK TIER. 


Ill 

r 

must have dove, and gone past loon-fasliion. Do you ever 
perform that manoeuvre ?” 

“ No, we’ve kept above water the whole time, lieutenant,” 
answered Spike, heartily; “ and that is more than can be said 
of the poor fellow alongside of us. I was so much afraid of 
the Isle of Pines, that I went round Jamaica.” 

“You might have given the Isle of Pines a berth, and still 
have passed to the north of the Englishmen,” said Wallace, a 
little drily. “However, that island is somewhat of a scare¬ 
crow, and we have been to take a look at it ourselves. All’s 
right there, just now. But you seem light; what have you 
done with your flour ?” 

“ Parted with every barrel of it. You may remember I was 
bound to Key West, and a market. Well, I found my mar¬ 
ket here, in American waters.” 

“You have been lucky, sir. This ‘emporimn’ does not 
seem to be exactly a commercial emporium.” 

“ The fact is, the flour is intended for the Havana; and I 
fancy it is to be shipped for slavers. But I am to know noth¬ 
ing of all that, you’ll understand, lieutenant. If I sell my flour 
in American waters, at two prices, it’s no concern of mine what 
becomes of it a’terwards.” 

“Unless it happen to pass into enemy’s hands, certainly 
not; and you are too patriotic to deal with Mexico, just now, 
I’m sure. Pray, did that flour go down when the schooner 
turned turtle ?” 

“ Every barrel of it; but Don Wan, below there, thinks that 
most of it may yet be saved, by landing it on one of those 
Keys to dry. Flour, well packed, wets in slowly. You see we 
have some of it on deck.” 

“ And who may Don Wan be, sir, pray ? We are sent here 
to look after Dons and Donas, you know.” 

“Don Wan is a Cuban merchant, and deals in such articles 
as he wants. I fell in with him among the reefs here, where 
he was rummaging about in hopes of meeting with a wrack, he 

8 ^ 


178 


JACK TIER. 


tells me, and thinking to purchase something profitable in that 
way ; but finding I had fiour, he agreed to take it out of me 
at this anchorage, and send me away in ballast at once. I 
hav(} found Don Wan Montefalderon ready to pay, and very 
honorable.” 

Wallace then requested an explanation of the disaster, to 
the details of which he listened with a sailor’s interest. He 
asked a great many questions, all of which bore on the more 
nautical features of the event; and, day having now fairly ap¬ 
peared, he examined the purchases and backings of the Swash 
with professional nicety. The schooner was no lower in the 
water than when the men had knocked off work the previous 
night; and Spike set the people at the pumps and their bailing 
again, as the most effectual method of preventing their making 
any indiscreet communications to the man-of-war’s men. 

About this time the relict appeared on deck, when Spike 
gallantly introduced the lieutenant anew to his passengers. 
It is true he knew no name to use, but that was of little mo¬ 
ment, as he called the officer “ the lieutenant,” and nothing else. 

Mrs. Budd was delighted with this occasion to show off, and 
she soon broke out on the easy, indolent, but waggish Wallace, 
in a strain to surprise him, notwithstanding the specimen of 
the lady’s skill from which he had formerly escaped. 

“ Captain Spike is of opinion, lieutenant, that our cast- 
anchor here is excellent, and I know the value of a good cast- 
anchor place; for my poor Mr. Budd was a seafaring man, 
and taught me almost as much of your noble profession as he 
knew himself.” 

“And he taught you, ma’am,” said Wallace, fairly opening 
his eyes, under the infiuence of astonishment, “ to be very par¬ 
ticular about cast-anchor places!” 

“ Indeed he did. He used to say, that roads-instead were 
never as good, for such purposes, as land that’s locked havens, 
for the anchors would return home, as he called it, in roads* 
instead.” 


JACK TIER. 


179 


“Yes, ma’am,” answered Wallace, looking very queer at 
first, as if disposed to laugh outright, then catching a glance 
of Rose, and changing his mind ; “ I perceive that Mr. Budd 
knew what he was about, and preferred an anchorage where 
he was well land-locked, and where there was no danger of his 
anchors coming home, as so often happens in your open road¬ 
steads.” 

“Yes, that’s just it! That was just his notion! You can¬ 
not feel how delightful it is. Rose, to converse with one that 
thoroughly understands such subjects ! My poor Mr. Budd 
did, indeed, denounce roads-instead, at all times calling them 
‘ savage.’ ” 

“ Savage, aunt!” put in Rose, hoping to stop the good relict 
by her own interposition—“ that is a strange word to apply to 
an anchorage!” 

“Not at all, young lady,” said Wallace, gravely. “They 
are often wild berths, and wild berths are not essentially 
different from wild beasts. Each is savage, as a matter of 
course.” 

“ I knew I was right!” exclaimed the widow. “ Savage cast- 
anchors come of wild births, as do savage Indians. Oh ! the 
language of the ocean, as my poor Mr, Budd used to say, is 
eloquence tempered by common sen-se!” 

Wallace stared again, but his attention was called to other 
things, just at that moment. The appearance of Don Juan 
Montefalderon y Castro on deck, reminded him of his duty, 
and approaching that gentleman, he condoled with him on the 
grave loss he had sustained. After a few civil expressions on 
both sides, Wallace made a delicate allusion to the character 
of the schooner. 

“Under other circumstances,” he said, “it might be my 
duty to inquire a little particularly as to the nationality of your 
vessel, Senor, for we are at war with the Mexicans, as you 
doubtless know.” 

“Certainly,” answered Don Juan, with an unmoved air and 


180 


JACK TIER. 


great politeness of manner, “ tliougli it would be out of my 
power to satisfy you. Every thing was lost in the schooner, 
and I have not a paper of any sort to show you. If it be 
your pleasure to make a prize of a vessel in this situation, cer¬ 
tainly it is in your power to do it. A few barrels of wet flour 
are scarce worth disputing about.” 

Wallace now seemed a little ashamed, the sang froid of the 
other throwing dust in his eyes, and he was in a hurry to 
change the subject. Senor Don Juan was very civilly con¬ 
doled with again, and he was made to repeat the incidents of 
the loss, as if his auditor took a deep interest in what he said, 
but no further hint was given touching the nationality of the 
vessel. Tlie lieutenant’s tact let him see that Senor Montefal- 
deron was a person of very different calibre from Spike, as well 
as of different habits ; and he did not choose to indulge in the 
quiet irony that formed so large an ingredient in his own char¬ 
acter, with this new acquaintance. He spoke Spanish himself, 
with tolerable fluency, and a conversation now occurred be¬ 
tween the two, which was maintained for some time with 
spirit and a very manifest courtesy. 

This dialogue between Wallace and the Spaniard gave 
Spike a little leisure for reflection. As the day advanced the 
cruiser came more and more plainly in view, and his first busi¬ 
ness was to take a good survey of her. She might have been 
three leagues distant, but approaching with a very light breeze, 
at the rate of something less than two knots in the hour. 
Unless there was some one on board her who was acquainted 
with the channels of the Dry Tortugas, Spike felt little appre¬ 
hension of the ship’s getting very near to him ; but he very 
well understood that, with the sort of artillery that was in 
modern use among vessels of war, he would hardly be safe 
could the cruiser get within a league. That near Uncle Sam’s 
craft might certainly come without encountering the hazards 
of the channels, and within that distance she would be likely 
to get in the course of the morning, should he have the com- 


JACK TIER. 


181 


plaisance to wait for her. He determined, therefore, not to he 
guilty of that act of folly. 

All this time the business of lightening the schooner pro¬ 
ceeded. Although Mulford earnestly wished that the man-of- 
war might get an accurate notion of the true character and 
objects of the brig, he could not prevail on himself to become 
an informer. In order to avoid the temptation so to do, ho 
exerted himself in keeping the men at their tasks, and never 
before had pumping and bailing been carried on with more 
spirit. The schooner soon floated of herself, and the pur¬ 
chases which led to the Swash were removed. Near a hun¬ 
dred more barrels of the flour had been taken out of the hold 
of the Spanish craft, and had been struck on the deck of the 
brig, or sent to the Key by means of the boats. This made a 
material change in the buoyancy of the vessel, and enabled 
the bailing to go on with greater facility. The pumps were 
never idle, but two small streams of water were running the 
whole of the time towards the scuppers, and through them 
into the sea. 

At length the men were ordered to knock off, and to get 
their breakfasts. This appeared to arouse Wallace, who had 
been chatting, quite agreeably to himself, with Rose, and 
seemed reluctant to depart, but who now became sensible that 
he was neglecting his duty. He called away his boat’s crew, 
and took a civil leave of the passengers; after which he went 
over the side. The gig was some little distance from the 
Swash, when Wallace rose and asked to see Spike, with whom 
he had a word to say at parting. 

“ I will soon return,” he said, “ and bring you forty or fifty 
fresh men, who will make light work with your wreck. I am 
certain our commander will consent to my doing so, and will 
gladly send on board you two or three boat’s crews.” 

“ If I’ll let him,” muttered Spike between his teeth, “ I shall 
be a poor, miserable cast-anchor devil, that’s all.” 

To Wallace, however, he expressed his hearty acknowledg- 


182 


JACK TIER. 


ments; begged him not to be in a hurry, as the worst was now 
over, and the row was still a long one. If he got back towards 
evening it would be all in good time. Wallace waved his hand, 
and the gig glided away. As for Spike, he sat down on the 
plank-sheer where he had stood, and remained there ruminating 
intently for two or three minutes. When he descended to the 
deck his mind was fully made up. His fii-st act was to give 
some private orders to the boatswain, after which he withdrew 
to the cabin, whither he summoned Tier, without delay. 

“Jack,” commenced the captain, using very little circumlo¬ 
cution in opening his mind, “ you and I are old shipmates, and 
ought to be old friends, though I think your natur’ has under¬ 
gone some changes since we last met. Twenty years ago there 
was no man in the ship on whom I could so certainly depend 
as on Jack Tier; now, you seem given up altogether to the 
women. Your mind has changed even more than your body.” 

“ Time does that for all of us. Captain Spike,” returned Tier 
coolly. “ I am not what I used to be. I’ll own, nor are you 
yourself, for that matter. When I saw you last, noble captain, 
you were a handsome man of forty, and could go aloft with any 
youngster in the brig; but, now, you’re heavy, and not over- 
active.” 

“I!—Not a bit of change has taken place in me for the last 
thirty years. I defy any man to show to the contrary. But 
that’s neither here nor there ; you are no young woman. Jack, 
that I need be boasting of my health and beauty before you. I 
want a bit of real sarvice from you, and want it done in old- 
times fashion; and I mean to pay for it in old-times fashion, 
too.” 

As Spike concluded, he put into Tier’s hand one of the 
doubloons that he had received from Senior Montefalderon, in 
payment for the powder. The doubloons, for which so much 
pumping and bailing were then in process, were still beneath 
the waters of the gulf. 

“ Ay, ay, sir,” returned Jack, smiling and pocketing the gold^ 


JACK TIER. 


183 


with a wink of the eye and a knowing look; “ this does resem¬ 
ble old times sum’at. I now begin to know Captain Spike, my 
old commander, again, and see that he’s more like himself than 
I had just thought him. What am I to do for this, sir? Speak 
plain, that I may be sartain to steer the true course.” 

“ Oh, just a trifle. Jack—nothing that will break up the 
ground-tier of your wits, my old shipmate. You see the state 
of the brig, and know that she is in no condition for ladies.” 

“ ’Twould have been better all round, sir, had they never 
come aboard at all,” answered Jack, looking dark. 

Spike was surprised, but he was too much bent on his pro¬ 
jects to heed trifles. 

“ You know what sort of flour they’re whipping out of the 
schooner, and must understand that the brig will soon be in a 
pretty litter. I do not intend to let them send a single barrel 
of it beneath my hatches again, but the deck and the islands 
must take it all. Now I wish to relieve my passengers from the 
confinement this will occasion, and I have ordered the boatswain 
to pitch a tent for them on the largest of these here Tortugas; 
and what I want of you, is to muster food and water, and other 
women’s knicknacks, and go ashore with them, and make them 
as comfortable as you can for a few days, or until we can get 
this schooner loaded and off.” 

Jack Tier looked at his commander as if he would penetrate 
his most secret thoughts. A short pause succeeded, during 
which the steward’s mate was intently musing, then his counte¬ 
nance suddenly brightened; he gave the doubloon a fillip, and 
caught it on the palm of his hand as it descended, and he 
uttered the customary “ Ay, ay, sir,” with apparent cheerfulness. 
Nothing more passed between these two worthies, who now 
parted. Jack to make his arrangements, and Spike to “ tell his 
yarn,” as he termed the operation in his own mind, to Mrs. 
Budd, Rose, and Biddy. The widdw listened complacently, 
though she seemed half doubting, half ready to comply. As 
for Rose, she received the proposal with delight—the confine- 


184 


JACK TIER. 


ment of the vessel having become irksome to her. The princi- 
pal obstacle was in overcoming the difficulties made by the 
aunt, Biddy appearing to like the notion quite as much as 
“ Miss Rosy.” As for the lighthouse, Mrs. Budd had declared 
nothing would induce her to go there; for she did not doubt 
the place would soon be, if it were not already, haunted. In 
this opinion she was sustained by Biddy ; and it was the knowl¬ 
edge of this opinion that induced Spike to propose the tent. 

“ Are you sure, Captain Spike, it is not a desert island ?” 
asked the widow : “ I remember that my poor Mr. Budd always 
spoke of desert islands as horrid places, and spots that every 
one should avoid.” 

“ What if it is, aunty,” said Rose, eagerly, “ while we have 
the brig here close at hand ? We shall suffer none of the wants 
of such a place, so long as our friends can supply us.” 

“ And such friends. Miss Rose!” exclaimed Spike, a little sen¬ 
timentally for him: “ friends that would undergo hunger and 
thirst themselves, before you should want for any comforts.” 

“ Do, now. Madam Budd,” put in Biddy in her hearty way. 
“ It’s an island, ye’ll remimber; and sure that’s just what ould 
Ireland has ever been, God bless it! Islands make the pleasant¬ 
est risidences.” 

“ Well, I’ll venture to oblige you and Biddy, Rosy dear,” 
returned the aunt, still half reluctant to yield; “ but you’ll remem¬ 
ber, that if I find it all a desert island. I’ll not pass the night 
on it on any account whatever.” 

With this understanding the party was transferred to the 
shore. The boatswain had already erected a sort of tent, on a 
favorable spot, using some of the old sails that had covered the 
flour-barrels, not only for the walls, but for a carpet of some ex¬ 
tent also. This tent Avas ingeniously enough contrived. In 
addition to the little room that was entirely inclosed, there was 
a sort of piazza, or open verandah, which would enable its ten¬ 
ants to enjoy the shade in the open air. Beneath this veran¬ 
dah a barrel of fresh water Avas placed, as Avell as three or four 


JACK TIER. 


185 


ship’s stools, all of which had been sent ashore with the mate¬ 
rials for constructing the tent. The boat had been going and 
coming for some time, and the distance being short, the “ desert 
island” was soon a desert no longer. It is true that the sup¬ 
plies necessary to support three women for as many days were 
no great matter, and were soon landed, but Jack Tier had made 
a provision somewhat more ample. A capital caterer, he had 
forgotten nothing within the compass of his means, that could 
contribute to the comfort of those who had been put especially 
under his care. Long before the people “knocked off” for 
their dinners, the arrangements were completed, and the boat¬ 
swain was ready to take his leave. 

“Well, ladies,” said that grum old salt, “I can do no more 
for you, as I can see. This here island is now almost as com¬ 
fortable as a ship that has been in blue water for a month, and 
I don’t know how it can be made more comfortabler.” 

This was only according to the boatswain’s notion of 
comfort; but Rose thanked him for his care in her winning 
way, while her aunt admitted that, “for a place that was 
almost a desert island, things did look somewhat promising.” 
In a few minutes the men were all gone, and the islet was left 
to the sole possession of the three females, and their constant 
companion. Jack Tier. Rose was pleased with the novelty of 
her situation, though the islet certainly did deserve the op¬ 
probrium of being a “ desert island.” There was no shade but 
that, of the tent, and its verandah-like covering, though the 
last, in particular, was quite extensive. There was no water, 
that in the barrel and that of the ocean excepted. Of her¬ 
bage there was very little on this islet, and that was of the 
most meager and coarse character, being a long wiry grass, 
with here and there a few stunted bushes. The sand was 
reasonably firm, however, more especially round the shore, 
and the walking was far from unpleasant. Little did Rose 
know it, but a week earlier the spot would have been next to 
intolerable to her, on account of the musquitoes, gallinippers, 


186 


JACK TIER. 


and other similar insects of the family of tormentors; hut 
every thing of the sort had temporarily disappeared in the cur¬ 
rents of the tornado. To do Spike justice, he was aware of 
this circumstance, or he might have hesitated about exposing 
females to the ordinary annoyances of one of these spots. Not 
a musquito, or anything of the sort was left, however, all hav¬ 
ing gone to leeward, in the vortex which had come so near 
sweeping off the Mexican schooner. 

“ This place will do very well, aunty, for a day or two,” 
cried Rose cheerfully, as she returned from a short excursion, 
and threw aside her hat, one made to shade her face from the 
sun of a warm climate, leaving the sea-breeze, that was just 
beginning to blow, to fan her blooming and sunny cheeks. 
“ It is better than the brig. The worst piece of land is better 
than the brig.” 

“Do not say that. Rose—not if it’s a desert island, dear; 
and this is desperately like a desert island; I am almost sorry 
I ventured on it.” 

“ It will not be deserted by us, aunty, until we shall see 
occasion to do so. Why not endeavor to get on board of 
yonder ship, and return to New York in her ; or at least induce 
her captain to put us ashore somewRere near this, and go 
home by land ? Your health never seemed better than it is at 
this moment; and as for mine, I do assure you, aunty dear, I 
am as perfectly well as I ever was in my life.” 

“ All from this voyage. I knew it would set you up, and am 
delighted to hear you say as much. Biddy and I were talking 
of you this very morning, my child, and we both agreed that 
you were getting to be yourself again. Oh, ships, and brigs, 
and schooners, full-jigger or half-jigger, for pulmonary com¬ 
plaints, say I! My poor Mr. Budd always maintained that 
the ocean was the cure for all diseases, and I determined that 
to sea you should go, the moment I became alarmed for your 
health.” 

The good widow loved Rose most tenderly, and she was 


JACK TIER. 


187 


obliged to use her handkerchief to dry the tears from her eyes 
as she concluded. Those tears sprung equally from a past 
feeling of apprehension, and a present feeling of gratitude. 
Eose saw this, and she took a seat at her aunt’s side, touched 
herself, as she never failed to he on similar occasions with this 
proof of her relative’s affection. At that moment even Harry 
Mulford would have lost a good deal in her kind feelings to¬ 
wards him, had he so much as smiled at one of the widow’s 
nautical absurdities. At such times. Rose seemed to be her 
aunt’s guardian and protectress, instead of reversing the rela¬ 
tions, and she entirely forgot herself the many reasons which 
existed for wishing that she had been placed in childhood, 
under the care of one better qualified than the well-meaning 
relict of her uncle, for the performance of her duties. 

“ Thank you, aunty—thank’ee, dear aunty,” said Eose, kiss¬ 
ing the widow aflfectionately. “I know that you mean the 
best for me, though you are a little mistaken in supposing me 
ill. I do assure you, dear,” patting her aunt’s cheek, as if she 
herself had been merely a playful child, “ I never was better; 
and if I have been pulmonary, I am entirely cured, and am 
now ready to return home.” 

“ God be praised for this. Rosy. Under His divine provi¬ 
dence, it is all owing to the sea. If you really feel so much 
restored, however, I do not wish to keep you a moment longer 
on a ship’s board than is necessary. We owe something to 
Captain Spike’s care, and cannot quit him too unceremonious¬ 
ly ; but as soon as he is at liberty to go into a harbor, I will 
engage him to do so, and we can return home by land—un¬ 
less, indeed, the brig intends to make the home voyage her¬ 
self.” 

“ I do not like this brig, aunty, and now we are out of her, 
I wish we could keep out of her. Nor do I like your Captain 
Spike, who seems to me any thing but an agreeable gentle¬ 
man.” 

“That’s because you aren’t accustomed to the sea. My 


188 


JACK TIER. 


poor Mr. Buck! had his ways, like all the rest of them; it 
takes time to get acquainted with them. All sailors are so.” 

Rose bent her face involuntarily, but not so low as to conceal 
the increasing brightness of her native bloom, as she answered— 

“ Harry Mulford is not so, aunty dear—and he is every inch 
a sailor.” 

“Well, there is a difterence, I must acknowledge, though I 
dare say Harry will grow every day more and more like all 
the rest of them. In the end, he will resemble Captain 
Spike.” 

“ Never,” said Rose, firmly. 

“You can’t tell, child. I never saw your uncle when he 
was Harry’s age, for I wasn’t born till he was thirty, but often 
and often has he pointed out to me some slender, genteel 
youth, and say, ‘just such a lad was I at twenty,’ though no¬ 
thing could be less alike, at the moment he was speaking, 
than they two. We all change with our years. Now I was 
once as slender, and almost—not quite. Rosy, for few there are 
that be—but almost as handsome as you yourself.” 

“Yes, aunty, I ’ve heard that before,” said Rose, springing 
up, in order to change the discourse; “but Harry Mulford 
will never become like Stephen Spike. I wish we had never 
known the man, dearest aunty.” 

“ It was all your own doings, child. He’s a cousin of your 
most intimate friend, and she brought him to the house; and 
one couldn’t offend Mary Mulford, by telling her we didn’t 
like her cousin.” 

Rose seemed vexed, and she kept her little foot in motion, 
patting the sail that formed the carpet, as girls will pat the 
ground Avith their feet when vexed. This gleam of displeas¬ 
ure was soon over, however, and her countenance became as 
placid as the clear blue sky that formed the vault of the 
heavens above her head. As if to atone for the passing rebel¬ 
lion of her feelings, she threw her arms around her aunt’s 
neck; after which she walked away, along the beach, rumi- 


JACK TIER. 


189 


Rating on her present situation, and of the best means of extri¬ 
cating their party from the power of Spike. 

It requires great familiarity with vessels and the seas, for 
one to think, read, and pursue the customary train of reason¬ 
ing on hoard a ship that one has practised ashore. Rose had 
felt this embarrassment during the past month, for the whole 
of which time she had scarcely been in a condition to act up 
to her true character, suffering her energies, and in some meas¬ 
ure her faculties, to he drawn into the vortex produced by the 
bustle, novelties, and scenes of the vessel and the ocean. But, 
now she was once more on the land, diminutive and naked as 
was the islet that composed her present world, and she found 
leisure and solitude for reflection and decision. She was not 
ignorant of the nature of a vessel of war, or of the impropriety 
of unprotected females placing themselves on board of one; 
but gentlemen of character, like the ofiicers of the ship in 
sight, could hardly be wanting in the feelings of their caste; 
and any thing was better than to return voluntarily within the 
power of Spike. She determined within her own mind that 
voluntarily she would not. AVe shall leave this young girl, 
slowly wandering along the beach of her islet, musing on 
matters like these, while we return to the vessels and the 
mariners. 

A good breeze had come in over the reef from the Gulf, 
throwing the sloop-of-war dead to leeward of the brigantine’s 
anchorage. This was the reason that the former had closed 
so slowly. Still the distance between the vessels was so small, 
that a swift cruiser, like the ship of war, would soon have been 
alongside of the wreckers, but for the intervening islets and 
the intricacies of their channels. She had made sail on the 
wind, however, and was evidently disposed to come as near to 
the danger as her lead showed would be safe, even if she did 
not venture among them. 

Spike noted all these movements, and he took his measures 
accordingly. The pumping and bailing had been going on 


190 


-JACK TIER. 


since the appearance of light, and the flour had been quite 
half removed from the schooner’s hold. That vessel conse¬ 
quently floated with sufficient buoyancy, and no further anxiety 
was felt on account of her sinking. Still, a great deal of 
water remained in her, the cabin itself being nearly half full. 
Spike’s object was to reduce this water sufficiently to enable 
him to descend into the stateroom which Senor Montefalderon 
had occupied, and bring away the doubloons that alone kept 
him in the vicinity of so ticklish a neighbor as the Pough¬ 
keepsie. Escape was easy enough to one who knew the pas¬ 
sages of the reef and islets; more especially since the wind 
had so fortunately brought the cruiser to leeward. Spike most 
apprehended a movement upon him in the boats, and he had 
almost made up his mind, should such an enterprise be at¬ 
tempted, to try his hand in beating it off with his guns. A 
good deal of uncertainty on the subject of Mulford’s consenting 
to resist the recognized authorities of the country, as well as 
some doubts of a similar nature in reference to two or three of 
the best of the foremast hands, alone left him at all in doubt 
as to the expediency of such a course. As no boats were 
lowered from the cruiser, however, the necessity of resorting to 
so desperate a measure did not occur, and the duty of lighten¬ 
ing the schooner had proceeded without interruption. As 
soon as the boatswain came off from the islet, he and the men 
with him were directed to take the hands and lift the anchors, 
of which it will be remembered the Swash had several down. 
Even Mulford was shortly after set at work on the same duty; 
and these expert and ready seamen soon had the brig clear of 
the ground. As the schooner was anchored, and floated with¬ 
out assistance, the Swash rode by her. 

Such was the state of things when the men turned to, after 
having had their dinners. By this time, the sloop-of-war was 
within half a league of the bay, her progress having been 
materially retarded by the set of the current, which was di¬ 
rectly against her. Spike saw that a collision of some sort or 


JACK TIER. 


191 


other must speedily occur, and he determined to take the 
boatswain with him, and descend into the cabin of the schooner 
in quest of the gold. The boatswain was summoned, and 
Senor Montefalderon repeated in this man’s presence the in¬ 
structions that he thought it necessary for the adventurers to 
follow, in order to secure the prize. Knowing how little locks 
would avail on board a vessel, were the men disposed to rob 
him, that gentleman had trusted more to secreting his treasure, 
than to securing it in the more ordinary way. When the 
story had again been told. Spike and his boatswain went on 
board the schooner, and, undressing, they prepared to descend 
into the cabin. The captain paused a single instant to take a 
look at the sloop-of-war, and to examine the state of the 
weather. It is probable some new impression was made on 
him by this inquiry, for, hailing Mulford, he ordered him to 
loosen the sails, and to sheet home, and hoist the foretopsail. 
In a word, to “ see all ready to cast off, and make sail on the 
brig at the shortest notice.” With this command he disap¬ 
peared by the schooner’s companion-way. 

Spike and his companion found the water in the cabin very 
much deeper than they had supposed. With a view to com¬ 
fort, the cabin-floor had been sunk much lower than is usual 
on board American vessels, and this brought the water up 
nearly to the arm-pits of two men as short as our captain and 
his sturdy little boatswain. The former grumbled a good deal, 
when he ascertained the fact, and said something about the 
mate’s being better fitted to make a search in such a place, 
but concluding with the remark, that “ the man who wants 
ticklish duty well done, must see to it himself.” 

The gold-hunters groped their way cautiously about the 
cabin for some time, feeling for a drawer, in which they had 
been told they should find the key of Senor Montefalderon’s 
stateroom door. In this Spike himself finally succeeded, he 
being much better acquainted with cabins and their fixtures 
than the boatswain. 


192 


JACK TIER. 


“ Here it is, Ben,” said tlie captain: “ now for a dive among 
the Don’s val’ables. Should you pick up any thing worth 
speaking of, you can condemn it for salvage, as I mean to 
cast off, and quit the wrack the moment we’ve made sure of 
the doubloons.” 

“ And what will become of all the black flower that is lying 
about, sir ?” asked the boatswain with a grin. 

“ It may take care of itself. My agreement will be up as soon 
as the doubloons are found. If the Don will come down hand¬ 
somely with his share of what will be left, I may be bought 
to put the kegs we have in the brig ashore for him somewhere 
in Mexico ; but my wish is to get out of the neighborhood of 
that bloody sloop-of-war, as soon as possible.” 

“ She makes but slow headway ag’in the current, sir; but a 
body would think she might send in her boats.” 

“ The boats might be glad to get back again,” muttered 
Spike. “ Ay, here is the door unlocked, and we can now fish 
for the money.” 

Some object had rolled against the stateroom door, when 
the vessel was capsized, and there was a good deal of difhculty 
in forcing it open. They succeeded at last, and Spike led the 
way by wading into the small apartment. Here they began 
to feel about beneath the water, and by a very insufRcient light, 
in quest of the hidden treasure. Spike and his boatswain dif¬ 
fered as to the place which had just been described to them, 
as men will differ even in the account of events that pass 
directly before their eyes. While thus employed, the report 
of a heavy gun came through the doors of the cabin, pene¬ 
trating to the recess in which they were thus employed. 

“Ay, that’s the beginning of it I” exclaimed Spike. “I 
wonder that the fool has put it off so long.” 

“ That gun was a heavy fellow. Captain Spike,” returned 
the boatswain; “ and it sounded in my ears as if ’twas shotted.” 

“ Ay, ay, I dare say you’re right enough in both opinions. 
They put such guns on board their sloops-of-war, now-a-days, 


JACK TIER. 


193 


as a fellow used to find in the lower batteries of a two-decker 
only in old times; and as for shot, why Uncle Sam pays, 
and they think it cheaper to fire one out of a gun, than to 
take the trouble of drawing it.” 

“ I believe here’s one of the bags. Captain Spike,” said the 
boatswain, making a dip, and coming up with one half of the 
desired treasure in his fist. “ By George, I’ve grabbed him, 
sir; and the other bag can’t be far off.” 

“ Hand that over to me,” said the captain, a little authori¬ 
tatively, “ and take a dive for the next.” 

As the boatswain was obeying this order, a second gun was 
heard, and Spike thought that the noise made by the near 
passage of a large shot was audible also. He called out to 
Ben to “ bear a hand, as the ship seems in ’arnest.” But the 
head of the boatswain being under water at the time, the 
admonition was thrown away. The fellow soon came up, 
however, pufiing like a porpoise that has risen to the surface 
to blow. 

“ Hand it over to me at once,” said Spike, stretching out 
his unoccupied hand to receive the prize; “ we have little 
time to lose.” 

“ Tliat’s sooner said than done, sir,” answered the boatswain; 
“ a box has driven down upon the bag, and there’s a tight jam. 
I got hold of the neck of the bag, and pulled like a horse, but 
it wouldn’t come no how.” 

“ Show me the place, and let me have a drag at it. There 
goes another of his bloody guns!” 

Down went Spike, and the length of time he was under 
water, proved how much he was in earnest. Up he came at 
length, and with no better luck than his companion. He had 
got hold of the bag, satisfied himself by feeling its outside that 
it contained the doubloons, and hauled with all his strength, 
but it would not come. The boatswain now proposed to take 
a jamming hitch with a rope around the neck of the bag, 
which was long enough to admit of such a fastening, and then 

9 


194 


JACK TIER. 


to apply tlieir united force. Spike assented, and tlie boatswain 
rummaged about for a piece of small rope to suit his purpose. 
At this moment Mulford appeared at the companion-way to 
announce the movements on the part of the sloop-of-war. 
He had been purposely tardy, in order to give the ship as 
much time as possible; but he saw by the looks of the men 
that a longer delay might excite suspicion. 

“ Below there!” called out the mate. 

“What’s wanting, sir?—what’s wanting, sir?” apswered 
Spike; “ let’s know at once.” 

“ Have you heard the guns. Captain Spike ?” 

“ Ay, ay, every grumbler of them. They’ve done no mis¬ 
chief, I trust, Mr. Mulford ?” 

“ None as yet, sir; though the last shot, and it was a heavy 
fellow, passed just above the schooner’s deck. I’ve the topsail 
sheeted home and hoisted, and it’s that which has set them 
at work. If I clewed up again, I dare say they’d not fire 
another gun.” 

“ Clew up nothing, sir, but see all clear for casting off and 
making sail through the South Pass. W^hat do you say, Ben, 
are you ready for a drag ?” 

“A-U ready, sir,” answered the boatswain, once more coming 
up to breathe, “ Now for it, sir; a steady pull, and a pull all 
together.” 

They did pull, but the hitch slipped, and both went down 
beneath the water. In a moment they were up again, puflSng 
a little and swearing a gTeat deal. Just then another gun, and 
a clatter above their heads, brought them to a stand. 

“ What means that, Mr. Mulford ?” demanded Spike, a good 
deal startled. 

“ It means that the sloop-of-war has shot away the head of 
this schooner’s foremast, sir, and that the shot has chipp’d a 
small piece out of the heel of our maintop-mast—that’s all.” 

Though excessively provoked at the mate’s cool manner of 
replying. Spike saw that he might lose all by being too tena- 


JACK TIER. 


195 


cions about securing the remainder of the doubloons. Pro¬ 
nouncing in yery energetic terms on Uncle Sam, and all his 
cruisers, an anathema that we do not care to repeat, he gave a 
surely order to Ben to “knock-ofif,” and abandoned his late 
design. In a minute he was on deck and dressed. 

“ Cast off, lads,” cried the captain, as soon as on the deck of 
his own brig again, “ and four of you man that boat. We have 
got half of your treasure, Senor Wan, but have been driven 
from the rest of it, as you see. There is the bag; when at 
leisure we’ll divide it, and give the people their share. Mr. 
Mulford, keep the brig in motion, hauling up towards the South 
Pass, while I go ashore for the ladies. I’ll meet you just in 
the throat of the passage.” 

This said. Spike tumbled into his boat, and was pulled 
ashore. As for Mulford, though he cast many an anxious 
glance towards the islet, he obeyed his orders, keeping the brig 
standing off and on, under easy canvas, but working her up 
towarrls the indicated passage. 

Spike was met by Jack Tier on the beach of the little 
island. 

“ Muster the women at once,” ordered the captain, “ we have 
no time to lose, for that fellow will soon be firing broadsides, 
and his shot now range half a mile beyond us.” 

‘^You’ll no more move the widow and her maid, than you’ll 
move the island,” answered Jack, laconically. 

“ Why should I not move them 1 Do they wish to stay 
here and starve 

‘*It's little that they think of that. The sloop-of-war no 
sooner begun to fire than down went Mrs. Budd on the canvas 
floor of the tent, and set up just such a screaming as you may 
remember she tried her hand at the night the revenue craft 
fired into us. Biddy lay down alongside of her mistress, and 
at every gun they just scream as loud as they can, as if they 
fancied they micfht frighten off Uncle Sam’s men from their 
duty.” 


196 


JACK TIER. 


“Duty!—You little scamp, do you call tormenting honest 
traders in this fashion the duty of any man ?” 

“Well, captain. I’m no ways partic’lar about a word or two. 
Their ‘ways,’ if you like that better than duty, sir.” 

“Where’s Rose? Is she down too, screaming and squall¬ 
ing ?” 

“ No, Captain Spike, no. Miss Rose is endeavoring, like a 
handsome young Christian lady as she is, to pacify and mollify 
her aunt and Biddy; and right down sensible talk does she 
give them.” 

“Then she at least can go aboard the brig,” exclaimed 
Spike, with a sudden animation, and an expression of counte¬ 
nance that Jack did not at all like. 

“ I ray-y-ther think she’ll wish to hold on to the old lady,” 
observed the steward’s mate, a little emphatically. 

“You be d-d,” cried Spike, fiercely; “when your opi¬ 

nion is wanted. I’ll ask for it. If I find you’ve been setting 
that young woman’s mind ag’in me. I’ll toss you overboard, 
as I would the offals of a shark.” 

“Young women’s minds, when they are only nineteen, get 
set ag’in boys of fifty-six withgut much assistance.” 

“ Fifty-six yourself.” 

“I’m fifty-three—that I’ll own without making faces at 
it,” returned Jack, meekly; “and, Stephen Spike, you logged 
fifty-six your last birthday, or a false entry was made.” 

This conversation did not take place in the presence of the 
boat’s crew, but as the two walked together towards the tent. 
They were now in the verandah, as we have called the shaded 
opening in front, and actually within sound of the sweet voice 
of Rose, as she exhorted her aunt, in tones a little louder than 
usual for her to use, to manifest more fortitude. Under such 
circumstances Spike did not deem it expedient to utter that 
which was uppermost in his mind, but, turning short upon 
Tier, he directed a tremendous blow directly between his eyes. 
Jack saw the danger and dodged, falling backward to avoid a 


JACK TIER. 


197 


concussion which he knew would otherwise be fearful, coming 
as it would from one of the best forecastle boxers of his time. 
The full force of the blow tvas avoided, though Jack got enough 
of it to knock him down, and to give him a pair of black eyes. 
Spike did not stop to pick the assistant steward up, for another 
gun was fired at that very instant, and Mrs. Budd and Biddy 
renewed their screams. Instead of pausing to kick the pros¬ 
trate Tier, as had just before been his intention, the captain 
entered the tent. 

A scene that was sufficiently absurd met the view of Spike, 
when he found himself in the presence of the females. The 
widow had thrown herself on the ground, and was grasping 
the cloth of the sail on which the tent had been erected with 
both her hands, and was screaming at the top of her voice. 
Biddy’s imitation was not exactly literal, for she had taken 
a comfortable seat at the side of her mistress, but in the way 
of cries, she rather outdid her principal. 

“We must be off,” cried Spike, somewhat unceremoniously. 
“ The man-of-war is blazing away, as if she was a firin’ minute- 
guns over our destruction, and I can wait no longer.” 

“ I’ll not stir,” answered the widow—“ I can’t stir—I shall 
be shot if I go out. No, no, no—I’ll not stir an inch.” 

“We’ll be kilt!—we’ll be kilt!” echoed Biddy, “and a 
wicket murther ’twill be in that same man, war or no war.” 

The captain perceived the uselessness of remonstrance at 
such a moment, and perhaps he was secretly rejoiced thereat; 
but it is certain that he whipped Rose up under his arm, and 
walked away with her, as if she had been a child of two or 
three years of age. Rose did not scream, but she struggled 
and protested vehemently. It was in vain. Already the cap¬ 
tain had carried her half the distance between the tent and 
the boat, in the last of which, a minute more would have 
deposited his victim, when a severe blow on the back of his 
head caused Spike to stumble, and he permitted Rose to escape 
from his grasp, in the effort to save himself from a fall. Turn- 


198 


JACK TIER. 


ing fiercely towards his assailant, whom he suspected to be one 
of his boat’s crew, he saw Tier standing within a few yards, 
levelling a pistol at him. 

“ Advance a step, and you’re a dead man, villain!” scream¬ 
ed Jack, his voice almost cracked with rage, and the effort he 
made to menace. 

Spike muttered an oath too revolting for our pages; but it 
was such a curse as none but an old salt could give vent to, 
and that in the bitterness of his fiercest wrath. At that criti¬ 
cal moment, while Rose was swelling with indignation and 
wounded maiden pride, almost within reach of his arms, look¬ 
ing more lovely than ever, as the fiush of anger deepened the 
color in her cheeks, a fresh and deep report from one of the 
guns of the sloop-of-war drew all eyes in her direction. The 
belching of that gun seemed to be of double the power of 
those which had preceded it, and jets of water, that were 
twenty feet in height, marked the course of the formidable 
missile that was projected from the piece. The ship had, in¬ 
deed, discharged one of those monster-cannons that bear the 
name of a distinguished French engineer, but which should 
more properly be called by the name of the ingenious officer 
who is at the head of our own ordnance, as they came origi¬ 
nally from his inventive faculties, though somewhat improved 
by their European adopter. Spike suspected the truth, for he 
had heard of these “ Pazans,” as he called them, and he watch¬ 
ed the booming, leaping progress of the eight^nch shell that 
this gun threw, with the apprehension that unknown danger 
is apt to excite. As jet succeeded jet, each rising nearer and 
nearer to his brig, the interval of time between them seeming 
fearfully to diminish, he muttered oath upon oath. The last 
leap that the shell made on the water was at about a quarter 
of a mile’s distance of the islet on which his people had de¬ 
posited at least a hundred and fifty barrels of his spurious 
flour: thence it flew, as it might be without an effort, with a 
grand and stately bound into the very centre of the barrels, 


JACK TIER. 


199 


exploding at the moment it struck. All saw the scattering of 
flour, which was instantly succeeded by the heavy though 
slightly straggling explosion of all the powder on the island. 
A hundred kegs were lighted, as it might he, in a common 
flash, and a cloud of white smoke poured out and concealed 
the whole islet, and all near it. 

Rose stood confounded, nor was Jack Tier in a much better 
state of mind, though he still kept the pistol levelled, and 
menaced Spike. But the last was no longer dangerous to any 
there. He recollected that piles of the barrels encumbered 
the decks of his vessel, and he rushed to the boat, nearly frantic 
with haste, ordering the men to pull for their lives. In less 
than five minutes he was alongside, and on the deck of the 
Swash—his first order being, “ Tumble every barrel of this 
bloody powder into the sea, men. Over with it, Mr. Mulford, 
clear away the midship ports, and launch as much as you can 
through them.” 

Remonstrance on the part of Senor Montefalderon would 
have been useless, had he been disposed to make it; but, sooth 
to say, he was as ready to get rid of the powder as any there, 
after the specimen he had just witnessed of the power of a 
Paixhan gun. 

Thus it is ever with men. Had two or three of those shells 
been first thrown without effect, as might very well have hap¬ 
pened under the circumstances, none there would have cared 
for the risk they were running; but the chance explosion 
which had occurred, presented so vivid a picture of the danger, 
dormant and remote as it really was, as to throw the entire 
crew of the Swash into a frenzy of exertion. 

Nor was the vessel at all free from danger. On the con¬ 
trary, she ran very serious risk of being destroyed, and in some 
degree, in the very manner apprehended. Perceiving that 
Spike was luffing up through one of the passages nearest the 
reef, which would carry him clear of the group, a long dis¬ 
tance to windward of the point where he could only effect the 


200 


JACK TIER. 


same object, the commander of the sloop-of-war opened his 
fire in good earnest, hoping to shoot away something material 
on board the Swash, before she could get beyond the reach of 
his shot. The courses steered by the two vessels, just at that 
moment, favored such an attempt, though they made it neces¬ 
sarily very short-lived. While the Swash was near the wind, 
the sloop-of-war was obliged to run off to avoid islets ahead 
of her, a circumstance which, while it brought the brig square 
with the ship’s broadside, compelled the latter to steer on a 
diverging line to the course of her chase. It was in conse¬ 
quence of these facts, that the sloop-of-v/ar now opened in 
earnest, and was soon canopied in the smoke of her own fire. 

Great and important changes, as has been already mentioned, 
have been made in the armaments of all the smaller cruisers 
within the last few years. Half a generation since, a ship 
of the rate—we do not say of the size —of the vessel which 
was in chase of Spike and his craft, would not have had 
it in her power to molest an enemy at the distance these two 
vessels were now apart. But recent improvements have made 
ships of this nominal force formidable at nearly a league’s 
distance; more especially by means of their Paixhans and 
their shells. 

For some little time the range carried the shot directly over 
the islet of the tent; Jack Tier and Rose, both of whom were 
watching all that passed with intense interest, standing in the 
open air the whole time, seemingly with no concern for them¬ 
selves, so absorbed was each, notwithstanding all that had 
passed, in the safety of the brig. As for Rose, she thought 
only of Harry Mulford, and of the danger he was in by those 
fearful explosions of the shells. Her quick intellect compre¬ 
hended the peculiar nature of the risk that was incurred by 
having the flour-barrels on deck, and she could not but see the 
manner in which Spike and his men were tumbling them into 
the water, as the quickest manner of getting rid of them. 
After what had just passed between Jack Tier and his com- 


JACK TIER. 


201 


mander, it might not be so easy to account for his manifest, 
nay, intense interest in the escape of the Swash. This was 
apparent by his troubled countenance, by his exclamations, and 
occasionally by his openly expressed wishes for her safety. 
Perhaps it was no more than the interest the seaman is so apt 
to feel in the craft in which he has so long sailed, and which 
to him has been a home, and of which Mulford exhibited so 
much, in his struggles between feeling and conscience—be¬ 
tween a true and a false duty. 

As for Spike and his people, we have already mentioned 
their efforts to get rid of the powder. Shell after shell ex¬ 
ploded, though none very near the brig, the ship working her 
guns as if in action. At length the officers of the sloop-of-war 
detected a source of error in their aim, that is of very common 
occurrence in sea-gunnery. Their shot had been thrown to 
ricochet^ quartering a low, but very regular succession of little 
waves. Each shot striking the water at an acute angle to its 
agitated surface, was deflected from a straight line, and de¬ 
scribed a regular curve towards the end of its career; or, it 
might be truer to say, an irregular curvature, for the deflec¬ 
tion increased as the momentum of the missile diminished. 

No sooner did the commanding officer of the sloop-of-war 
discover this fact—and it was easy to trace the course of the 
shots by the jets of water they cast into the air, and to see as 
well as to hear the explosions of the shells—than he ordered the 
guns pointed more to windward, as a means of counteracting 
the departure from the straight lines. This expedient suc¬ 
ceeded in part, the solid shot falling much nearer to the brig 
the moment the practice was resorted to. No shell was fired 
for some little time after the new order was issued, and Spike 
and his people began to hope these terrific missiles had ceased 
their annoyance. The men cheered, finding their voices for 
the first time since the danger had seemed so imminent, and 
Spike was heard animating them to their duty. As for Mul¬ 
ford, he was on the coach-house deck, working the brig, the 

9 ^ 


202 


JACK TIER. 


captain having confided to him that delicate duty, the highest 
proof he could furnish of confidence in his seamanship. The 
handsome young mate had just made a half-board, in the 
neatest manner, shoving the brig by its means through a most 
difiicult part of the passage, and had got her handsomely filled 
again on the same tack, looking right out into open water, by 
a channel through which she could now stand on a very easy 
bowline. Every thing seemed propitious, and the sloop-of-war’s 
solid shot began to drop into the water, a hundred yards short 
of the brig. In this state of things one of the Paixhans 
belched forth its angry flame and sullen roar again. There 
was no mistaking the gun. Then came its mass of iron, a 
globe that would have weighed just sixty-eight pounds, had not 
sufficient metal been left out of its interior to leave a cavity 
to contain a single pound of powder. Its course, as usual, was 
to be marked by its path along the sea, as it bounded, half a 
mile at a time, from wave to wave. Spike saw by its undeviating 
course that this shell was booming terrifically towards his brig, 
and a cry to “ look out for the shell,” caused the work to be 
suspended. That shell struck the water for the last time 
within two hundred yards of the brig, rose dark and menacing- 
in its furious leap, but exploded at the next instant. The frag¬ 
ments of the iron were scattered on each side, and ahead. 
Of .the last, three or four fell into the water so near the vessel 
as to cast their spray on her decks. 

“ Overboard with the rest of the powder!” shouted Spike. 
“ Keep the brig off a little, Mr. Mulford—keep her off, sir; 
you luff too much, sir.” 

“ Ay, ay, sir,” answered the mate. “ Keep her off, it is.” 

“ There comes the other shell!” cried Ben, but the men did 
not quit their toil to gaze this time. Each seaman worked as 
if life and death depended on his single exertions. Spike 
alone watched the course of the missile. On it came, booming 
and hurtling through the air, tossing high the jets, at each 
leap it made from the surface, striking the water for its last 


JACK TIER. 


203 


bound, seemingly in a line with the shell that had just pre¬ 
ceded it. From that spot it made its final leap. Every hand 
in the brig was stayed and every eye was raised as the rushing 
tempest was heard advancing. The mass went muttering 
directly between the masts of the Swash. It had scarcely 
seemed to go by when the fierce fiash of fire and the sharp 
explosion followed. Happily for those in the brig, the projec¬ 
tile force given by the gun carried the fragments from them, 
as in the other instance it had brought them forward; else 
would few have escaped mutilation, or death, among their 
crew. 

The flashing of the fire so near the barrels of powder that 
still remained on their deck, caused the frantic efforts to be 
renewed, and barrel after barrel was tumbled overboard, amid 
the shouts that were now raised to animate the people to their 
duty. 

“ Luff, Mr. Mulford—luff you may, sir,” cried Spike. 

No answer was given. 

“ D ’ye hear there, Mr. Mulford ?—it is luff you may, sir.” 

“ Mr. Mulford is not aft, sir,” called out the man at the helm 
—“ but luff it is, sir.” 

“ Mr. Mulford not aft! Where’s the mate, man ? Tell him 
he is wanted.” 

No Mulford was to be found! A call passed round the 
decks, was sent below, and echoed throughout the entire brig, 
but no sign or tidings could be had of the handsome mate* 
At that exciting moment the sloop-of-war seemed to cease her 
firing, and appeared to be securing her guns. 


204 


JACK TIER. 




CHAPTER VIL 

“Thou art the same, eternal sea! , 

The earth has many shapes and forms, 

Of hill and valley, flower and tree; 

Fields that the fervid noontide warms. 

Or winter’s rugged grasp deforms, 

Or bright with autumn’s golden store: 

Thou coverest up thy face with storms, 

Or smilest serene,—but still thy roar 
And dashing foam go up to vex the sea-beat shore.” 

Lunt, 

We shall now advance the time eight-and-forty hours. The 
baffling winds and calms that succeeded the tornado had gone, 
and the trades blew in their stead. Both vessels had disap¬ 
peared, the brig leading, doubling the western extremity of 
the reef, and going off before both wind and current with 
flowing sheets, fully three hom-s before the sloop-of-war could 
beat up against the latter, to a point that enabled her to do 
the same thing. By that time, the Swash was five-and-twenty 
miles to the eastward, and consequently but just discernible in 
her loftiest sails, from the ship’s royal yards. Still, the latter 
continued the chase; and that evening both vessels were beat¬ 
ing down along the southern margin of the Florida Reef, 
against the trades, but favored by a three or four knot current, 
the brig out of sight to windward. Our narrative leads us to 
lose sight of both these vessels, for a time, in order to return 
to the islets of the Gulf. Eight-and-forty hours had made 
some changes in and around the haven of the Dry Tortugas. 
The tent still stood, and a small fire that was boiling its pot 
and its kettle, at no great distance from it, proved that the 
tent was still inhabited. The schooner also rode at her an¬ 
chors, very much as she had been abandoned by Spike. The 


JACK TIER. 


205 


bag of doubloons, however, had been found, and there it lay, 
tied, but totally unguarded, in the canvas verandah of Rose 
Budd’s habitation. Jack XiST’passed and repassed it with ap¬ 
parent indifference, as he went to and fro between his pantry 
and kitchen, busy as a bee in preparing his noontide meal for 
the day. This man seemed to have the islet all to himself, 
however, no one else being visible on any part of it. He sang 
his song in a cracked, contralto voice, and appeared to be 
happy in his solitude. Occasionally he talked to himself 
aloud, most probably because he had no one else to speak to. 
We shall record one of his recitatives, which came in between 
the strains of a very inharmonious air, the words of which 
treated of the seas, while the steward’s assistant was stirring 
an exceedingly savory mess that he had concocted of the in¬ 
gredients to be found in the united larders of the Swash and 
the Mexican schooner. 

“Stephen Spike is a capital willian!” exclaimed Jack, smell¬ 
ing at a ladle filled with his soup—“ a capital willian, I call 
him. To think, at his time of life, of such a handsome and 
pleasant young thing as this Rose Budd; and then to try to 
get her by underhand means, and by making a fool of her 
silly old aunt. It’s wonderful what fools some old aunts be! 
Quite wonderful! If I was as great a simpleton as this Mrs. 
Budd, I’d never cross my threshold. Yes, Stephen Spike is 
a prodigious willian, as his best friends must own! Well, I 
gave him a thump on the head that he’ll not forget this 
v’y’ge. To think of carryin’ off that pretty Rose Budd in his 
very arms, in so indecent a manner! Yet, the man has his 
good p’ints, if a body could only forget his bad ones. He’s a 
first-rate seaman. How he worked the brig till he doubled 
the reef, a’ter she got into open water; and how he made her 
walk off afore the wind, with stun’sails alow and aloft, as soon 
as ever he could make ’em draw! My life for it, he ’ll tire 
the legs of Uncle Sam’s man, afore he can fetch up with him. 
For running away, when hard chased, Stephen Spike hasn’t 


206 


JACK TIER. 


his equal on ’arth. But, he’s a great willian—a prodigious 
willian! I cannot say I actually wish him hanged; but I 
would rather have him hanged than see him get pretty Rose 
in his power. What has he to do with girls of nineteen ? If 
the rascal is one year old, he’s fifty-six. I hope the sloop-of- 
war will find her match, and I think she will. The Molly’s a 
great traveller, and not to be outdone easily. ’Twould be a 
thousand pities so lovely a craft should be cut off in the flower 
of her days, as it might be, and I do hope she’ll lead that 
bloody sloop on some sunken rock. 

“Well, there’s the other bag of doubloons. It seems 
Stephen could not get it. That’s odd, too, for he’s great at 
grabbin’ gold. The man bears his age well; but he’s a wil¬ 
lian 1 I wonder whether he or Mulford made that half-board 
in the narrow channel. It was well done, and Stephen is a 
perfect sailor; but he says Mulford is the same. Nice young 
man, that Mulford; just fit for Rose, and Rose for him. Pity 
to part them. Can find no great fault wdth him, except that 
he has too much conscience. There’s such a thing as having 
too much, as well as too little conscience. Mulford has too 
much, and Spike has too little. For him to think of carry in’ 
off a gal of nineteen! I say he’s fifty-six, if he’s a day. How 
fond he used to be of this very soup! If I’ve seen him eat a 
quart of it, I’ve seen him eat a puncheon full of it, in my 
time. What an appetite the man has when he’s had a hard 
day’s duty on’t! There’s a great deal to admire, and a great 
deal to like in Stephen Spike, but he’s a reg’lar willian. I 
dare say he fancies himself a smart, jaunty youth ag’in, as I 
can remember him; a lad of twenty, which was about his 
years when I first saw him, by the sign that I was very little 
turned of fifteen myself. Spike ivas comely then, though I ac¬ 
knowledge he’s a willian. I can see him now, with his deep 
blue roundabout, his bell-mouthed trowsers, both of fine cloth 
—too fine for such a willian—but fine it was, and much did it 
become him.” 


JACK TIER. 


207 


Here Jack made a long pause, during wliicli, though he may 
have thought much, he said nothing. Nevertheless, he wasn’t 
idle the while. On the contrary, he passed no less than three 
several times from the fire to the tent, and returned. Each 
time, in going and coming, he looked intently at the bag of 
doubloons, though he did not stop at it or touch it. Some 
associations connected with Spike’s fruitless attempts to obtain 
it must have formed its principal interest with this singular 
being, as he muttered his captain’s name each time in passing, 
though he said no more audibly, '^he concerns of the dinner 
carried him back and forth; and in his last visit to the tent, 
he began to set a small table—one that had been brought for 
the convenience of Mrs. Budd and her niece, from the brig, 
and which of course still remained on the islet. It was while 
thus occupied, that Jack Tier recommenced his soliloquy. 

“ I hope that money may do some worthy fellow good yet. 
It’s Mexican gold, and that’s inemy’s gold, and might be con¬ 
demned by law, I do suppose. Stephen had a hankerin’ a’ter 
it, but he did not get it. It come easy enough to the next 
man that tried. That Spike’s a willian, and the gold was too 
good for him. He has no conscience at all to think of a gal 
of nineteen! and one fit for his betters, in the bargain. The 
time has been when Stephen Spike might have pretended to 
Rose Budd’s equal. That much I’ll ever maintain, but that 
time’s gone; and, what is more, it will never come again. I 
should like Mulford better if he had a little less conscience. 
Conscience may do for Uncle Sam’s ships, but it is sometimes 
in the way aboard a trading craft. What can a fellow do with 
a conscience when dollars is to be smuggled off, or tobacco 
smuggled ashore ? I do suppose I’ve about as much conscience 
as it is useful to have, and I’ve got ashore in my day twenty 
thousand dollars’ worth of stuff, of one sort or another, if I’ve 
got ashore the valie of ten dollars. But Spike carries on 
business on too large a scale, and many’s the time I’ve told 
him so. I could have forgiven him any thing but this attempt 


208 


JACK TIER. 


on Rose Biidd; and he’s altogether too old for that, to say no¬ 
thing of other people’s rights. He’s an up-and-down willian, 
and a body can make no more, nor any less of him. That soup 
must be near done, and I’ll hoist the signal for grub.” 

This signal was a blue-peter of which one had been brought 
ashore to signal the brig; and with which Jack now signalled 
the schooner. If the reader will turn his eyes towards the last 
named vessel, he will find the guests whom Tier expected to 
surround his table. Rose, her aunt, and Biddy were all seated, 
under an awning made by^a sail, on the deck of the schooner, 
which now floated so buoyantly as to show that she had materi¬ 
ally lightened since last seen. Such indeed was the fact, and 
he who had been the instrument of producing this change, ap¬ 
peared on deck in the person of Mulford, as soon as he was told 
that the blue-peter of Jack Tier was flying. 

The boat of the lighthouse, that in which Spike had landed 
in quest of Rose, was lying alongside of the schooner, and suffi¬ 
ciently explained the manner in which the mate had left the 
brig. This boat, in fact, had been fastened astern, in the hurry 
of getting from under the sloop-of-war’s fire, and Mulford had 
taken the opportunity of the consternation and frantic eftbi’ts 
produced by the explosion of the last shell thrown, to descend 
from his station on the coach-house into this boat, to cut the 
painter, and to let the Swash glide away from him. This the 
vessel had done with great rapidity, leaving him unseen under 
the cover of her stern. As soon as in the boat, the mate had 
seized an oar, and sculled to an islet that was within fifty yards, 
concealing the boat behind a low hummock that formed a tiny 
bay. All this was done so rapidly, that, united to the confusion 
on board the Swash, no one discovered the mate or the boat. 
Had he been seen, however, it is veiy little probable that Spike 
w'ould have lost a moment of time, in the attempt to recover 
either. But he was not seen, and it was the general opinion on 
board the Swash, for quite an hour, that her handsome mate 
had been knocked overboard and killed, by a fragment of the 


JACK TIER. 


209 


shell that had seemed to explode almost in the ears of her people. 
When the reef was doubled, however, and Spike made his pre¬ 
parations for meeting the rough water, he hove to, and ordered 
his own yawl, which was also towing astern, to be hauled u]) 
alongside, in order to be hoisted in. Then, indeed, some glim¬ 
merings of the truth were shed on the crew, who missed the 
lighthouse boat. Though many contended that its painter 
must also have been cut by a fragment of the shell, and that 
the mate had died loyal to roguery and treason. Mulford was 
much liked by the crew, and he was highly valued by Spike, 
on account of his seamanship and integrity, this latter being a 
quality that is just as necessary for one of the captain’s charac¬ 
ter to meet with in those he trusts, as to any other man. But 
Spike thought differently of the cause of Mulford’s disappear¬ 
ance, from his crew. He ascribed it altogether to love for Rose, 
when, in truth, it ought in justice to have been quite as much 
imputed to a determination to sail no longer with a man who 
was clearly guilty of treason. Of smuggling, Mulford had long 
suspected Spike, though he had no direct proof of the fact; but 
now he could not doubt that he was not only engaged in sup¬ 
plying the enemy with the munitions of war, but was actually 
bargaining to sell his brig for a hostile cruiser, and possibly to 
transfer himself and crew along with her. 

It is scarcely necessary to speak of the welcome Mulford re¬ 
ceived when he reached the islet of the tent. He and Rose had 
a long private conference, the result of which was to let the 
handsome mate into the secret of his pretty companion’s true 
feelings towards himself. She had received him with tears, and 
a betrayal of emotion that gave him every encouragement, and 
now she did not deny her preference. In that interview the 
young people plighted to each other their troth. Rose never 
doubted of obtaining her aunt’s consent in due time, all her preju¬ 
dices being in favor of the sea, and sailors; and should she not, 
she would soon be her own mistress, and at liberty to dispose 
of herself and her pretty little fortune as she might choose. 


210 


JACK TIER. 


But a cipher as she was, in all questions of real moment, Mrs. 
Budd was not a person likely to throw any real obstacle in the 
way of the young people’s wishes; the true grounds of whose 
present apprehensions were all to be referred to Spike, his inten¬ 
tions, and his well-known perseverance. Mulford was convinced 
that the brig would be back in quest of the remaining doubloons, 
as soon as she could get clear of the sloop-of-war, though he 
was not altogether without a hope that the latter, when she 
found it impossible to overhaul her chase, might also return, in 
order to ascertain what discoveries could be made in and about 
the schooner. The explosion of the powder, on the islet, must 
have put the man-of-war’s men in possession of the secret of the 
real quality of the flour that had composed her cargo, and it 
doubtless had awakened all their distrust on the subject of the 
Swash’s real business in the Gulf. Under all the circumstances, 
therefore, it did appear quite as probable that one of the par¬ 
ties should reappear at the scene of their recent interview as 
the other. 

Bearing all these things in mind, Mulford had lost no time 
in completing his own arrangements. He felt that he had some 
atonement to make to the country, for the part he had seem¬ 
ingly taken in the late events: and it occurred to him, could he 
put the schooner in a state to be moved, then place her in the 
hands of the authorities, his own peace would be made, and his 
character cleared. Rose no sooner understood his plans and 
motives, than she entered into them with all the ardor and self- 
devotion of her sex; for the single hour of confldential and 
frank communication which had just passed, doubled the interest 
she felt in Mulford, and in all that belonged to him. Jack Tier 
was useful on board a vessel, though his want of stature and 
force rendered him less so than was common with sea-faring 
men. His proper sphere, certainly, had been the cabins, where 
his usefulness was beyond all cavil; but he was now very ser- 
vdceable to Mulford on the deck of the schooner. The first two 
days, Mrs. Budd had been left on the islet, to look to the con- 


JACK TIER. 


211 


cerns of the kitchen, while Mulford, accompanied by Rose, 
Biddy, and Jack Tier, had gone off to the schooner, and set 
her pumps in motion again. It was little that Rose could do, 
or indeed, attempt to do, at this toil; but the pumps being 
small and easily worked, Biddy and Jack were of great ser¬ 
vice. By the end of the second day the pumps sucked; the 
cargo that remained in the schooner, as well as the form of her 
bottom, contributing greatly to lessen the quantity of the water 
that was to be got out of her. 

Then it was that the d.oubloons fell into Mulford’s hands, 
along with every thing else that remained below decks. It 
was perhaps fortunate that the vessel was thoroughly purified 
by her immersion, and the articles that were brought on deck 
to be dried were found in a condition to give no great offence 
to those who removed them. By leaving the hatches off, and 
the cabin doors open, the warm winds of the trades effectually 
dried the interior of the schooner in the course of a single 
night; and when Mulford repaired on board of her, on the 
morning of the third day, he found her in a condition to be 
fitted for his purposes. On this occasion Mrs. Budd had ex¬ 
pressed a wish to go off to look at her future accommodations, 
and Jack was left on the islet to cook the dinner, which will 
explain the actual state of things as described in the opening 
of this chapter. 

As those who toil usually have a relish for their food, • the 
appearance of the blue-peter was far from being unwelcome 
to those on board of the schooner. They got into the boat, 
and were sculled ashore by Mulford, who, seaman-like, used 
only one hand in performing this service. In a very few 
minutes they were all seated at the little table, which was 
brought out into the tent-verandah for the enjoyment of the 
breeze. 

“ So far, well,” said Mulford, after his appetite was mainly 
appeased; Rose picking crumbs, and affecting to eat, merely 
to have the air of keeping him company; one of the minor 


212 


JACK TIER. 


proofs of tlie little attentions that spring from the afiections. 
“ So far, well. The sails are bent, and though they might be 
newer and better, they can be made to answer. It was fortu¬ 
nate to find any thing like a second suit on board a Mexican 
craft of that size at all. As it is, we have foresail, mainsail, 
and jib, and with that canvas I think we might beat the 
schooner down to Key West in the course of a day and a 
night. If I dared to venture outside of the reef, it might be 
done sooner even, for they tell me there is a four-knot current 
sometimes in that track; but I do not like to venture outside, 
so short-handed. The current inside must serve our turn, and 
we shall get smooth water by keeping under the lee of the 
rocks. I only hope we shall not get into an eddy as we go 
further from the end of the reef, and into the bight of the coast.” 

“Is there danger of that?” demanded Rose, whose quick 
intellect had taught her many of these things, since her ac¬ 
quaintance with vessels. 

“ There may be, looking at the formation of the reef and 
islands, though I know nothing of the fact by actual observa¬ 
tion. This is my first visit in this quarter.” 

“ Eddies are serious matters,” put in Mrs. Budd, “ and my 
poor husband could not abide them. Tides are good things, 
but eddies are very disagreeable.” 

“ Well, aunty, I should think eddies might sometimes be as 
welcome as tides. It must depend, however, very much on 
the way one wishes to go.” 

“ Rose, you surprise me! All that you have read, and all 
that you have heard, must have shown you the difterence. 
Do they not say ‘ a man is floating with the tide,’ when things 
are prosperous with him—and don’t ships drop down with the 
tide, and beat the wind with the tide? And don’t vessels 
sometimes ‘tide it up to town,’ as it is called, and isn’t it 
thought an advantage to have the tide with you ?” 

“All very true, aunty; but I do not see how that makes 
eddies any the worse.” 


JACK TIER. 


213 


“Because eddies are the opposite of tides, child. When 
the tide goes one way, the eddy goes another—isn’t it so, 
Harry Mulford? You never heard of one’s floatino; in an 
eddy.” 

“ That’s what we mean by an eddy, Mrs. Budd,” answered 
the handsome mate, delisted to hear Rose’s aunt call him by 
an appellation so kind and familiar,—a thing she had never 
done previously to the intercourse which had been the conse¬ 
quence of their present situation. “ Though I agree with Rose 
in thinking an eddy may be a good or a bad thing, and very 
much like a tide, as one wishes to steer.” 

“You amaze me, both of you! Tides are always spoken of 
favorably, but eddies never. If a ship gets ashore, the tide 
can float her off; that I’ve heard a thousand times. Then, 

what do the newspapers say of President-, and Governor 

-, and Congressman-Why, that they all ‘ float 

in the tide of public opinion,’ and that must mean something 
particularly good, as they are always in office. No, no, Harry; 
I’ll acknowledge that you do know something about ships; a 
good deal, considering how young you are; but you have 
something to learn about eddies. Never trust one as long as 
you live.” 

Mulford was silent, and Rose took the occasion to change 
the discourse. 

“I hope we shall soon be able to quit this place,” she 
said; “ for I confess to some dread of Captain Spike’s return.” 

“ Captain Stephen Spike has greatly disappointed me,” ob¬ 
served the aunt, gravely. “ I do not know that I was ever 
before deceived in judging a person. I could have sworn he 
was an honest, frank, well-meaning sailor—a character, of all 
others, that I love ; but it has turned out otherwise.” 

“ He’s a willian !” muttered Jack Tier. 

Mulford smiled; at which speech, we must leave to conjec- 

♦ We suppress the names used by Mrs. Budd, out of delicacy to the individuals 
mcnt^oped, >vho are still living. 





214 


JACK TIER. 


ture; but he answered Rose, as he ever did, promptly and with 
pleasure. 

“The schooner is ready, and this must be our last meal 
ashore,” he said. “ Our outfit will be no great matter; but if 
it will carry us down to Key West, I shall ask no more of it. 
As for the return of the Swash, I look upon it as certain. She 
could easily get clear of the sloop-of-war, with the start she had, 
and Spike is a man that never yet abandoned a doubloon, when 
he knew where one was to be found.” 

“Stephen Spike is like all his fellow-creatures,” put in Jack 
Tier pointedly. “ He has his faults, and he has his virtues.” 

“ Virtue is a term I should never think of applying to such a 
man,” returned Mulford, a little surprised at the fellow’s earnest¬ 
ness. “The word is a big one, and belongs to quite another 
class of persons.” Jack muttered a few syllables that were un¬ 
intelligible, when again the conversation changed. 

Rose now inquired of Mulford as to their prospects of getting 
to Key West. He told her that the distance was about sixty 
miles; their route lying along the north or inner side of the 
Florida Reef. The whole distance was to be made against the 
trade-wind, which was then blowing about an eight-knot breeze, 
though, bating eddies, they might expect to be favored with 
the current, which was less strong inside than outside of the 
reef. As for handling the schooner, Mulford saw no great diffi¬ 
culty in that. She was not large, and was both lightly sparred 
and lightly rigged. All her top-hamper had been taken down 
by Spike, and nothing remained but the plainest and most 
readily-managed gear. A fore-and-aft vessel, sailing close by 
the wind, is not difficult to steer; will almost steer herself, in¬ 
deed, in smooth water. Jack Tier could take his trick at the 
helm, in any weather, even in running before the wind, the 
time when it is most difficult to guide a craft, and Rose might 
be made to understand the use of the tiller, and taught to 
govern the motions of a vessel so small and so simply rigged, 
when on a wind and in smooth water. On the score of man- 


JACK TIER. 


215 


aging the schooner, therefore, Mulford thought there would be 
little cause for apprehension. Should the weather continue set¬ 
tled, he had little doubt of safely landing the whole party at 
Key West, in the course of the next four-and-twenty hours. 
Short sail he should be obliged to carry, as well on account of 
the greater facility of managing it, as on account of the cir¬ 
cumstance that the schooner was now in light ballast trim, and 
would not bear much canvas. He thought that the sooner they 
left the islets the better, as it would not be long ere the brig 
would be seen hovering around the spot. All these matters 
were discussed as the party still sat at table; and when they 
left it, which was a few minutes later, it was to remove the 
effects they intended to carry away to the boat. This was soon 
done, both Jack Tier and Biddy proving very serviceable, while 
Rose tripped backward and forward, with a step elastic as a 
gazelle’s, carrying light burdens. In half an hour the boat was 
ready. “Here lies the bag of doubloons still,” said Mulford, 
smiling. “ Is it to be left, or shall we give it up to the admi¬ 
ralty court at Key West, and put in a claim for salvage?” 

“ Better leave it for Spike,” said Jack unexpectedly. “ Should 
he come back, and find the doubloons, he may be satisfied, and 
not look for the schooner. On the other hand, when the vessel 
is missing, he will think that the money is in her. Better leave 
it for old Stephen.” 

“ I do not agree with you. Tier,” said Rose, though she 
looked as amicably at the steward’s assistant, while she thus op¬ 
posed his opinion, as if anxious to persuade rather than coerce. 
“ I do not quite agree with you. This money belongs to the 
Spanish merchant; and, as we take away with us his vessel, to 
give it up to the authorities at Key West, I do not think we 
have a right to put his gold on the shore and abandon it.” 

This disposed of the question. Mulford took the bag, and 
carried it to the boat, without waiting to ascertain if Jack had 
any objection; while the whole party followed. In a few 
minutes everybody and every thing in the boat were transferred 


216 


JACK TIER. 


to the deck of the schooner. As for the tent, the old sails of 
which it was made, the furniture it contained, and such articles 
of provisions as were not wanted, they were left on the islet, 
without regret. The schooner had several casks of fresh w^ater, 
which were found in her hold, and she had also a cask or two 
of salted meats, besides several articles of food more delicate, 
that had been provided by Senor Montefalderon for his own use, 
and which had not been damaged by the water. A keg of 
Boston crackers were among these eatables, quite half of which 
were still in a state to be eaten. They were Biddy’s delight; 
and it was seldom that she could be seen when not nibbling at 
one of them. The bread of the crew was hopelessly damaged; 
but Jack had made an ample provision when sent ashore, and 
there was still a hundred barrels of the flour in the schooner’s 
hold. One of these had been hoisted on deck by Mulford, and 
opened. The injured flour was easily removed, leaving a con¬ 
siderable quantity fit for the uses of the kitchen. As for the keg 
of gunpowder, it was incontinently committed to the deep. 

Thus provided for, Mulford decided that the time had ar¬ 
rived when he ought to quit his anchorage. He had been 
employed most of that morning in getting the schooner’s 
anchor, a work of great toil to him, though everybody had 
assisted. He had succeeded, and the vessel now rode by a 
kedge, that he could easily weigh by means of a deck tackle. 
It remained now, therefore, to lift this kedge and to stand 
out of the bay of the islets. No sooner was the boat secured 
astern, and its freight disposed of, than the mate began to make 
sail. In order to hoist the mainsail well up, he was obliged to 
carry the halyards to the windlass. Thus aided, he succeeded 
without much difficulty. He and Jack Tier and Biddy got 
the jib hoisted by hand; and as for the foresail, that would 
almost set itself. Of course, it was not touched until the 
kedge was aweigh. Mulford found little difficulty in lifting 
the last, and he soon had the satisfaction of finding his cTaft 
clear of the ground. As Jack Tier was every way competent 


JACK TIER. 


217 


to take charge of the forecastle, Miilford now sprang aft, and 
took his own station at the helm, Rose acting as his pretty as¬ 
sistant on the quarter-deck. 

There is little mystery in getting a fore-and-aft vessel under 
way. Her sails fill almost as a matter of course, and motion 
follows as a necessary law. Thus did it prove with the Mexi¬ 
can schooner, which turned out to be a fast-sailing and an 
easily-worked craft. She was, indeed, an American bottom, as 
it is termed, having been originally built for the Chesapeake ; 
and, though not absolutely what is understood by a Baltimore 
clipper, so nearly of that mould and nature as to possess some 
of the more essential qualities. As usually happens, however, 
when a foreigner gets hold of an American schooner, the 
Mexicans had shortened her mast and lessened her canvas. 
This circumstance was rather an advantage to Mulford, who 
would probably have had more to attend to than he wished 
under the original rig of the craft. 

Everybody, even to the fastidious Mrs. Budd, was delighted 
with the easy and swift movement of the schooner. Mulford, 
now he had got her under canvas, handled her without any 
difficulty, letting her stand towards the channel through which 
he intended to pass, with her sheets just taken in, though 
compelled to keep a little off, in order to enter between the 
islets. No difficulty occurred, however, and in less than ten 
minutes the vessel was clear of the channels, and in open 
water. Tlie sheets were now flattened in, and the schooner 
brought close by the wind. A trial of the vessel on this mode 
of sailing was no sooner made, than Mulford was induced to 
regret he had taken so many precautions against any increas¬ 
ing power of the wind. To meet emergencies, and under the 
notion that he should have his craft more under command, 
the young man had reefed his mainsail, and taken the bonnets 
off the foresail and jib. As the schooner stood up better than 
he had anticipated, the mate felt as all seamen are so apt to 
feel, when they see that their vessels might be made to per- 

10 


218 


JACK TIER. 


form more than is actually got out of them. As the breeze 
was fresh, however, he determined not to let out the reef; and 
the labor of lacing on the bonnets again was too great to be 
thought of just at that moment. 

We all find relief on getting in motion, when pressed by 
circumstances. Mulford had been in great apprehension of the 
reappearance of the Swash all that day; for it was about the 
time when Spike would be apt to return, in the event of liis 
escaping from the sloop-of-war, and he dreaded Rose’s again 
falling into the hands of a man so desperate. Nor is it im¬ 
puting more than a very natural care to the young man, to say 
that he had some misgivings concerning himself. Spike, by 
this time, must be convinced that his business in the Gulf was 
known; and one who had openly thrown off his service, as his 
mate had done, would unquestionably be regarded as a traitor 
to his interests, whatever might be the relation in which he 
would stand to the laws of the country. It was probable such 
an alleged offender would not be allowed to appear before the 
tribunals of the land, to justify himself and to accuse the truly 
guilty, if it were in the power of the last to prevent it. Great, 
therefore, was the satisfaction of our handsome young mate 
when he found himself again fairly in motion, with a craft 
under him, that glided ahead in a way to prove that she might 
give even the Swash some trouble to catch her, in the event 
of a trial of speed. 

Everybody entered into the feelings of Mulford, as the 
schooner passed gallantly out from between the islets, and 
entered the open water. Fathom by fathom did her wake 
rapidly increase, until it could no longer be traced back as far 
as the sandy beaches that had just been left. In a quarter 
of an hour more, the vessel had drawn so far from the land, 
that some of the smaller and lowest of the islets were getting 
to be indistinct. At that instant everybody had come aft, the 
females taking their seats on the trunk, which, in this vessel 
as in the Swash herself, gave space and height to the cabin. 


# 


JACK TIER. 


219 


“Well,” exclaimed Mrs. Budd, who found the freshness 
of the sea air invigorating, as well as their speed exciting, 
“ this is what I call maritime. Rosy, dear. This is what is 
meant by the Maritime States, about which we read so much, 
and which are commonly thought to he so important. We 
are now in a Maritime State, and I feel perfectly happy after 
all our dangers and adventures!” 

“Yes, aunty, and I am delighted that you are happy,” 
answered Rose, with frank affection. “We are now rid of that 
infamous Spike, and may hope never to see his face more.” 

“ Stephen Spike has his good p’ints as well as another,” said 
Jack Tier, abruptly. 

“ I know that he is an old shipmate of yours. Tier, and that 
you cannot forget how he once stood connected with you, and 
am sorry I have said so much against him,” answered Rose, 
expressing her concern even more by her looks and tones than 
by her words. 

Jack was mollified by this, and he let his feeling be seen, 
though he said no more than to mutter, “ He’s a willian!” 
words that had frequently issued from his lips witliin the last 
day or two. 

“ Stephen Spike is a capital seaman, and that is something 
in any man,” observed the relict of Captain Budd. “He 
learned his trade from one who was every way qualified to 
teach him, and it’s no wonder he should be expert. Do you 
expect, Mr. Mulford, to beat the wind the whole distance to 
Key West?” 

It was not possible for any one to look more grave than the 
mate did habitually, while the widow was floundering through 
her sea-terms. Rose had taught him that respect for her aunt 
was to be one of the conditions of her own regard, though 
Rose had never opened her lips to him on the subject. 

“Yes, ma’am,” answered the mate, respectfully, “we are in 
the trades, and shall have to turn to windward, every inch 
of the way to Key West.” 




220 


JACK TIER. 


“ Of what lock is this place the key, Rosy ?” asked the aunt, 
innocently enough. “ I know that forts and towns are some¬ 
times called keys, but they always have locks of some sort or 
other. Now, Gibraltar is the key of the Mediterranean, as 
your uncle has told me fifty times.; and I have been there, and 
can understand why it should be,—but I do not know of what 
lock this West is the key.” 

“ It is not that sort of key which is meant, aunty, at all— 
but quite a different thing. The key meant is an island.” 

“ And why should any one be so silly as to call an island a 
key ?” 

“ The place where vessels unload is sometimes called a key,” 
answered Mulford :—“ the French called it a quai^ and the 
Butch kaye. I suppose our English word is derived from 
these. Now, a low, sandy island, looking somewhat like keys, 
or wharves, seamen have given them this name. Key West is 
merely a low island.” 

“ Then there is no lock to it, or any thing to be unfastened,” 
said the widow, in her most simple manner. 

“ It may turn out to be the key to the Gulf of Mexico, one 
of these days, ma’am. Uncle Sam is surveying the reef, and 
intends to do something here, I believe. When Uncle Sam 
is really in earnest, he is capable of performing great things.” 

Mrs. Budd was satisfied with this explanation, though she 
told Biddy that evening, that “ locks and keys go together, 
and that the person who christened the island to which they 
w^ere going, must have been very weak in his upper story.” 
But these reflections on the intellects of her fellow-creatures 
were by no means uncommon with the worthy relict; and we 
cannot say that her remarks made any particular impression 
on her Irish maid. 

In the mean time, the Mexican schooner behaved quite to 
Mulford’s satisfaction, tie thought her a little tender in the 
squalls, of which they had several that afternoon; but he 
remarked to Rose, who expressed her uneasiness at the manner 


JACK TIER. 


221 


in which the vessel lay over in one of them, that “ she comes 
down quite easy to her hearings, but it is hard forcing her 
beyond them. The vessel needs more cargo to ballast her, 
though, on the whole, I find her as stiff as one could expect. I 
am now glad that I reefed, and reduced the head sails, though 
I was sorry at having done so when we first came out. At 
this rate of sailing, we ought to be up with Key West by 
morning.” 

But that rate of sailing did not continue. Towards evening, 
the breeze lessened almost to a calm again, the late tornado 
appearing to have quite deranged the ordinary stability of the 
trades. When the sun set, and it went down into the broad 
waters of the Gulf a flood of flame, there was barely a two- 
knot breeze, and Mulford had no longer any anxiety on the 
subject of keeping his vessel on her legs. His solicitude, now, 
was confined to the probability of falling in with the Swash. 
As yet, nothing was visible, either in the shape of land or in 
that of a sail. Between the islets of the Dry Tortugas and 
the next nearest visible keys, there is a space of open water, 
of some forty miles in width. The reef extends across it, of 
course; but nowhere does the rock protrude itself above the 
surface of the sea. The depth of water on this reef varies 
essentially. In some places a ship of size might pass on to it, 
if not across it; while in others a man could wade for miles. 
There is one deep and safe channel—safe to those who are 
acquainted with it—through the centre of this open space, 
and which is sometimes used by vessels that wish to pass from 
one side to the other; but it is ever better for those whose 
business does not call them in that direction, to give the rocks 
a good berth, more especially in the night. 

Mulford had gleaned many of the leading facts connected 
with the channels, and the navigation of those waters, from 
Spike and the older seamen of the brig, during the time they 
had been lying at the Tortugas. Such questions and answers 
are common enough on board ships, and, as they are usually 


222 


JACK TIER. 


put and given with intelligence, one of our mate’s general 
knowledge of liis profession, was likely to carry away much 
useful information. By conversations of this nature, and by 
consulting the charts, which Spike did not affect to conceal 
after the name of his port became known, the young man, in 
fact, had so far made himself master of the subject, as to have 
tolerably accurate notions of the courses, distances, and gen¬ 
eral peculiarities of the reef. When the sun went down, he 
supposed himself to be about half way across the space of open 
water, and some five-and-twenty miles dead to windward of 
his port of departure. This was doing very well for the cir¬ 
cumstances, and Mulford believed himself and his companions 
clear of Spike, when, as night drew its veil over the tranquil 
sea, nothing was in sight. 

A very judicious arrangement was made for the watches 
on board the Mexican schooner, on this important night. Mrs. 
Budd had a great fancy to keep a watch, for once in her life, 
and, after the party had supped, and the subject came up in 
the natural course of things, a dialogue like this occurred : 

“Harry must be fatigued,” said Rose, kindly, “and must 
want sleep. The wdnd is so light, and the weather appears to 
be so settled, that I think it would be better for him to ‘turn 
in,’ as he calls it—here Rose laughed so prettily that the 
handsome mate wished she would repeat the words,—“better 
that he should ‘ turn in’ now, and we can call him should there 
be need of his advice or assistance. I dare say Jack Tier and 
I can take very good care of the schooner until daylight.” 

Mrs. Budd thought it would be no more than proper for 
one of her experience and years to rebuke this levity, as well 
as to enlighten the ignorance her niece had betrayed. 

“You should be cautious, my child, how you propose any 
thing to be done on a ship’s board,” observed the aunt. “ It 
requires great experience and a suitable knowledge of rigging 
to give maritime advice. Now, as might have been expected, 
considering your years, and the short time you have been at 


JACK TIER. 


223 


sea, you have made several serious mistakes in what you have 
proposed. In the first place, there should always be a mate 
on the deck, as I have heard your dear departed uncle say, 
again and again; and how can there be a mate on the deck 
if Mr. Mulford ‘ turns in,’ as you propose, seeing that he’s the 
only mate we have ? Then you should never laugh at any 
maritime expression, for each and all are, as a body might 
say, solemnized by storms and dangers. That Harry is fa¬ 
tigued, I think is very probable; and he must set our watches, 
as they call it, wdien he can make his arrangements for the 
night, and take his rest as is usual. Here is my watch to be¬ 
gin with; and I’ll engage he does not find it two minutes out 
of the way, though yours. Rosy dear, like most girl’s time¬ 
pieces, is, I’ll venture to say, dreadfully wrong. Where is 
your chronometer, Mr. Mulford ? Let us see how this excellent 
watch of mine, which was once my poor departed Mr. Budd’s, 
will agree with that piece of yours, which I have heard you 
say is excellent.” 

Here was a fiight in science and nautical language that poor 
Mulford could not have anticipated, even in the captain’s relict! 
That Mrs. Budd should mistake “ setting the watch” for “ set¬ 
ting our watches,” was not so very violent a blunder that one 
ought to be much astonished at it in her ; but that she should 
expect to find a chronometer that was intended to keep the 
time of Greenwich, agreeing with a watch that was set for 
the time of Hew York, betrayed a degree of ignorance that 
the handsome mate was afraid Rose would resent on him, 
when the mistake was made to appear. As the widow held 
out her own watch for the comparison, however, he could not 
refuse to produce his own. By Mrs. Budd’s watch it was past 
seven o’clock, while by his own, or the Greenwich-set chro¬ 
nometer, it was a little past twelve. 

“ How very wrong your watch is, Mr. Mulford,” cried the 
good lady, “ notwithstanding all you have said in its favor! 
It’s quite five hours too fast, I do declare; and now. Rosy 


224 


JACK T 


E K. 


dear, you see the importance of setting watchos on a ship’s 
board, as is done every evening, my departed husband has 
often told me.” 

“Harry’s must be what he calls a dog-Avatch, aunty,” said 
Rose, laughing, though she scarce kncAV at what. 

“ The Avatch goes, too,” added the widoAA^, raising the chro¬ 
nometer to her ear, “though it is so very Avrong. Well, set 
it, Mr. Mulford ; then Ave Avill set Rose’s, Avhich I’ll engage is 
half an hour out of the Avay, though it can never be as Avrong 
as yours.” 

Mulford Avas a good deal embarrassed, but he gained cour¬ 
age by looking at Rose, avIio appeared to him to be quite as 
much mystified as her aunt. For once he hoped Rose Avas 
ignorant; for nothing Avould be so likely to diminish the feel¬ 
ing produced by the exposure of the aunt’s mistake, as to in¬ 
clude the niece in the same category. 

“ My Avatch is a chronometer, you Avill recollect, Mrs. Budd,” 
said the young man. 

“ I knoAV it; and they ought to keep the very best time— 
that I’ve ahvays heard. My poor Mr. Budd had tAVo, and 
they Avere as large as compasses, and sold for hundreds after 
his lamented decease.” 

“ They Avere ship’s chronometers, but mine Avas made for 
the pocket. It is true, chronometers are intended to keep the 
most accurate time, and usually they do; this of mine, in par¬ 
ticular, Avould not lose ten seconds in a tAvelvemonth, did I not 
carry it on my person.” 

“No, no, it does not seem to lose any, Harry; it only gains,” 
cried Rose, laughing. 

Mulford Avas noAV satisfied, notAvithstanding all that had 
passed on a previous occasion, that the laughing, bright-eyed, 
and quick-witted girl at his elboAA^, kneAV no more of the uses 
of a chronometer than her unusually dull and ignorant aunt; 
and he felt himself relieved from all embarrassment at once. 
Though he dared not even seem to distrust Mrs. Budd’s intel- 


JACK TIER. 


225 


lect or knowledge before Rose, he did not scruple to laugh at 
Rose herself, to Rose. With her there was no jealousy on the 
score of capacity, her quickness being almost as obvious to all 
who approached her as her beauty. 

“Rose Budd, you do not understand the uses of a chro¬ 
nometer, I see,” said the mate, firmly, “notwithstanding all 
I have told you concerning them.” 

“ It is to keep time, Harry Mulford, is it not ?” 

“True, to keep time—but to keep the time of a particular 
meridian; you know what a meridian means, I hope ?” 

Rose looked intently at her lover, and she looked singularly 
lovely, for she blushed slightly, though her smile was as open 
and amicable as ingenuousness and affection could make it. 

“ A meridian means a point over our heads—the spot where 
the sun is at noon,” said Rose, doubtingly. 

“ Quite right; but it also means longitude, in one sense. If 
you draw a line from one pole to the other, all the places it 
crosses are on the same meridian. As the sun first appears 
in the east, it follows that he rises sooner in places that are 
east, than in places that are farther west. Thus it is, that at 
Greenwich, in England, where there is an observatory made 
for nautical purposes, the sun rises about five hours sooner than 
it does here. All this difference is subject to rules, and we 
know exactly how to measure it.” 

“ How can that be, Harry ? You told me this but the other 
day, yet I have forgotten it.” 

“Quite easily. As the earth turns round in just twenty- 
four hours, and its circumference is divided into three hundred 
and sixty equal parts, called degrees, we have only to divide 
360 by 24, to know how many of these degrees are included 
in the difference produced by one hour of time. There are 
just fifteen of them, as you will find by multiplying 24 by 15. 
It follows that the sun rises just one hour later, each fifteen 
degrees of longitude, as you go west, or one hour earlier each 
fifteen degrees of longitude, as you go east. Having ascer- 

10 ^ 


226 


JACK TIER. 


tained the difference by the hour, it is easy enough to calcu¬ 
late for the minutes and seconds.” 

“ Yes, yes,” said Rose, eagerly, “ I see all that—go on.” 

“Now a chronometer is nothing but a watch, made with 
great care, so as not to lose or gain more than a few seconds 
in a twelvemonth. Its tvhole merit is in keeping time accu¬ 
rately.” 

“ Still I do not see how that can be any thing more than a 
very good watch.” 

“ You xoill see in a minute. Rose. For purposes that you 
will presently understand, books are calculated for certain 
meridians, or longitudes, as at Greenwich and Paris; and those 
who use the books calculated for Greenwich, get their chro¬ 
nometers set at Greenwich; and those who use the Paris, get 
their chronometers set to Paris time. When I was last in 
England, I took this watch to Greenwich, and had it set at the 
Observatory by the true solar time. Ever since it has been 
running by that time, and what you see here is the true Green¬ 
wich time, after allowing for a second or two that it may have 
lost or gained.” 

“ All that is plain enough,” said the much interested Rose— 
“ but of what use is it all ?” 

“ To help mariners to find their longitude at sea, and thus 
know where they are. As the sun passes so far north, and so 
far south of the equator each year, it is easy enough to find 
the latitude, by observing his position at noonday; but for a 
long time seamen had great difficulty in ascertaining their 
longitudes. That, too, is done by observing the different 
heavenly bodies, and with greater accuracy than by any other 
process, but this thought of measuring the time is very simple, 
and so easily put in practice, that we all run by it now.” 

“ Still I cannot understand it,” said Rose, looking so intently, 
so eagerly, and so intelligently into the handsome mate’s eyes, 
that he found it was pleasant to teach her other things besides 
how to love. 


JACK TIER. 


227 


“ I will explain it. Having the Greenwich time in the watch, 
we observe the sun, in order to ascertain the true time, 
wherever we may happen to be. It is a simple thing to ascer¬ 
tain the true time of day by an observation of the sun, which 
marks the hours in his track; and when we get our observa¬ 
tion, we have some one to note the time at a particular instant 
on the chronometer. By noting the hour, minutes, and seconds, 
at Greenwich, at the very instant we observe here, when we 
have calculated from that observation the time here, we have 
only to add or subtract the time here from that of Greenwich, 
to know precisely how far east or west we are from Greenwich, 
which gives us our longitude.” 

“ I begin to comprehend it again,” exclaimed Rose, delighted 
at the acquisition in knowledge she had just made. “ How 
beautiful it is, yet how simple!—but why do I forget it ?” 

“ Perfectly simple and perfectly sure, too, when the chro¬ 
nometer is accurate, and the observations are nicely made. It 
is seldom we are more than eight or ten miles out of the way, 
and for them we keep a look-out. It is only to ascertain the 
time where you are, by means that are easily used, then look 
at your watch to learn the time of day at Greenwich, or any 
other meridian you may have selected, and to calculate your 
distance, east or west, from that meridian, by the difference in 
the two times.” 

Rose could have listened all night, for her quick mind 
readily comprehended the principle, which lies at the bottom 
of this useful process, though still ignorant of some of the 
details. This time she was determined to secure her acquisi¬ 
tions, though it is quite probable that, woman-like, they were 
once more lost, almost as easily as made. Mulford, however,- 
was obliged to leave her, to look at the vessel, before he 
stretched himself on the deck, in an old sail; it having been 
previously determined that he should sleep first, while the wind 
was light, and that Jack Tier, assisted by the females, should 
keep the first watch. Rose would not detain the mate, there- 


228 


JACK TIER. 


fore, but let him go his way, in order to see that all was right 
before he took his rest. 

Mrs. Budd had listened to Mulford’s second explanation of 
the common mode of ascertaining the longitude, with all the 
attention of which she was capable; but it far exceeded the 
powers of her mind to comprehend it. There are persons who 
accustom themselves to think so superficially, that it becomes 
a painful process to attempt to dive into any of the arcana 
of nature, and who ever turn from such investigations wearied 
and disgusted. Many of these persons, perhaps most of them, 
need only a little patience and perseverance to comprehend 
all the more familiar phenomena, but they cannot command 
even that much of the two qualities named to obtain the 
knowledge they would fain wish to possess. Mrs. Budd did 
not belong to a division as high in the intellectual scale as 
even this vapid class. Her intellect was unequal to embracing 
any thing of an abstracted character, and only received the 
most obvious impressions, and those quite half the time it re¬ 
ceived wrong. The mate’s reasoning, therefore, was not only 
inexplicable to her, but it sounded absurd and impossible. 

“ Rosy, dear,” said the worthy relict, as soon as she saw 
Mulford stretch his fine frame on his bed of canvas, speaking 
at the same time in a low, confidential tone to her niece, “ what 
was it that Harry was telling you a little while ago ^ It 
sounded to me like rank nonsense; and men will talk nonsense 
to young girls, as I have so often warned you, child. You 
must never listen to their nonsense^ Rosy; but remember your 
catechism and confirmation vow, and be a good girl.” 

To how many of the feeble-minded and erring do those 
offices of the Church prove a stay and support, when their 
own ordinary powers of resistance would fail them! Rose, 
however, viewed the matter just as it was, and answered ac¬ 
cordingly. 

“ But this was nothing of that nature, aunty,” she said, 
“ and only an account of the mode of finding out where a ship 


JACK TIER. 


229 


is when out of sight of land, in the middle of the ocean. We 
had the same subject up the other day.” 

“ And how did Harry tell you, this time, that was done, my 
dear ?” 

“ By finding the difference in the time of day between two 
places—just as he did before.” 

“ But there is no difference in the time of day, child, when 
the clocks go well.” 

“ Yes, there is, aunty dear, as the sun rises in one place 
before it does in another.” 

“ Rose, you’ve been listening to nonsense now! Remember 
what I have so often told you about young men, and their way 
of talking. I admit Harry Mulford is a respectable youth, 
and has respectable connections ; and since you like one 
another, you may have him, with all my heart, as soon as he 
gets a full-jiggered ship, for I am resolved no niece of my poor 
dear husband’s shall ever marry a mate, or a captain even, 
unless he has a full-jiggered ship under his feet. But do not 
talk nonsense with him. Nonsense is nonsense, though a sen¬ 
sible man talks it. As for all this stuff about the time of day, 
you can see it is nonsense, as the sun rises but once in twenty- 
four hours, and of course there cannot be two times, as you 
call it.” 

“ But, aunty dear, it is not always noon at London when it 
is noon at New York.” 

“ Fiddle-faddle, child! noon is noon, and there are no more 
two noons than two suns, or two times. Distrust what young 
men tell you. Rosy, if you would be safe, though they should 
tell you you are handsome.” 

Poor Rose sighed, and gave up the explanation in despair. 
Then a smile played round her pretty mouth. It was not at 
her aunt that she smiled; this she never permitted herself to 
do, weak as was that person, and weak as she saw her to be ; 
she smiled at the recollection how often Mulford had hinted 
at her good looks—for Rose was a female, and had her own 


230 


JACK TIER. 


weaknesses, as well as aiiotlier. But the necessity of acting 
soon drove these thoughts from her mind, and Rose sought 
Jack Tier, to confer with him on the subject of their new 
duties. 

As for Harry Mulford, his head was no sooner laid on its 
hunch of sail than he fell into a profound sleep. There he lay, 
slumbering as the seaman slumbers, with no sense of surround¬ 
ing things. The immense fatigues of that and of the two pre¬ 
ceding days,—for he had toiled at the pumps even long after 
night had come, until the vessel was clear,—weighed him 
down, and Nature was now claiming her influence, and taking 
a respite from exertion. Had he been left to himself, it is 
probable the mate would not have arisen until the sun had re¬ 
appeared some hours. 

It is now necessary to explain more minutely the precise 
condition, as well as the situation of the schooner. On quitting 
his port, Mulford had made a stretch of some two leagues in 
length, towards the northward and eastward, when he tacked 
and stood to the southward. There was enough of southing 
in the wind to make his last course nearly due south. As he 
neared the reef, he found that he fell in some miles to the 
eastward of the islets,—proof that he was doing very well, 
and that there was no current to do him any material harm, 
if, indeed, there were not actually a current in his favor. He 
next tacked to the northward again, and stood in that direc¬ 
tion until near night, when he once more went about. The 
wind was now so light that he saw little prospect of getting in 
with the reef again, until the return of day; but as he had 
left orders with Jack Tier to be called at twelve o’clock, at all 
events, this gave him no uneasiness. At the time when the 
mate lay down to take his rest, therefore, the schooner was 
quite flve-and-twenty miles to windward of the Dry Tortugas, 
and some twenty miles to the northward of the Florida Reef, 
with the wind quite light at east-southeast. Such, then, was 
the position or situation of the schooner. 


JACK TIER. 


231 


As respects her condition, it is easily described. She had 
but the three sails bent,—mainsail, foresail, and jib. Her top¬ 
masts had been struck, and all the hamper that belonged to 
them was below. The mainsail was single reefed, and the 
foresail and jib were without their bonnets, as has already been 
mentioned. This was somewhat short canvas, but Mulford 
knew that it would render his craft more manageable in the 
event of a blow. Usually, at that season and in that region, 
the east trades prevailed with great steadiness, sometimes di¬ 
verging a little south of east, as at present, and generally blow¬ 
ing fresh. But, for a short time previously to, and ever since 
the tornado, the wind had been unsettled, the old currents ap¬ 
pearing to regain their ascendency by fits, and then losing it, 
in squalls, contrary currents, and even by short calms. 

The conference between Jack Tier and Rose was frank and 
confidential. 

“ We must depend mainly on you,” said the latter, turning 
to look towards the spot where Mulford lay, buried in the deep¬ 
est sleep that had ever gained power over him. “ Harry is so 
fatigued! It would be shameful to awaken him a moment 
sooner than is necessary.” 

“ Ay, ay; so it is always with young women, when they lets 
a young man gain their ears,” answered Jack, Avithout the 
least circumlocution ; “ so it is, and so it always will be, I’m 
afraid. Nevertheless, men is Avillians.” 

Rose Avas not affronted at this plain allusion to the poAver 
that Mulford had obtained OA^er her feelings. It Avould seem 
that Jack had got to be so intimate in the cabins, that his 
sex Avas, in a measure, forgotten; and it is certain that his 
recent services Avere not. Without a question, but for his in¬ 
terference, the pretty Rose Budd Avould, at that moment, have 
been the prisoner of Spike, and most probably the victim of 
his design to compel her to marry him. 

“All men are not Stephen Spikes,” said Rose, earnestly, 
“ and least of all is Harry IMulford to be reckoned as one of 


232 


JACK TIER. 


his sort. But, we must manage to take care of the schooner 
the whole night, and let Harry get his rest. He wished to be 
called at twelve, but we can easily let the hour go by, and not 
awaken him.” 

“ The commanding officer ought not to be sarved so, Miss 
Rose. What he says is to be done.” 

“ I know it. Jack, as to ordinary matters; but Harry left 
these orders that we might have our share of rest, and for no 
other reason at all. And what is to prevent our having it ? 
We are four, and can divide ourselves into two watches; one 
watch can sleep while the other keeps a look-out.” 

“ Ay, ay, and pretty watches they would be ! There’s Madam 
Budd, now; why, she’s quite a navigator, and knows all about 
weerin’ and haulin’, and I dares to say could put the schooner 
about, to keep her off the reef, on a pinch ; though which way 
the craft would come round, could best be told a’ter it has 
been done. It’s as much as /’d undertake myself. Miss Rose, 
to take care of the schooner, should it come on to blow; and 
as for you. Madam Budd, and that squalling Irishwoman, you’d 
be no better than so many housewives ashore.” 

“We have strength, and we have courage, and we can pull, 
as you have seen. I know very well which way to put the 
helm now, and Biddy is as strong as you are yourself, and 
could help me all I wished. Then we could always call 
you, at need, and have your assistance. Nay, Harry himself 
can be called, if there should be a real necessity for it, and 
I do wish he may not be disturbed until there is that ne¬ 
cessity.” 

It was with a good deal of reluctance that Jack allowed 
himself to be persuaded into this scheme. He insisted, for a 
long time, that an officer should be called at the hour men¬ 
tioned by himself, and declared he had never known such an or¬ 
der neglected, “ marchant-man, privateer, or man-of-war.” Rose 
prevailed over his scruples, however, and there was a meeting 
of the three females to make the final arrangements. Mrs. 


JACK TIER. 


233 


Budd, a kind-hearted woman, at the worst, gave her assent 
most cheerfully, though Rose was a little startled with the 
nature of the reasoning with which it was accompanied. 

“You are quite right. Rosy dear,” said the aunt, “and the 
thing is very easily done. I’ve long wanted to keep one watch 
at sea; just one watch; to complete my maritime education. 
Your poor uncle used to say, ‘Give my wife but one night- 
watch, and you’d have as good a seaman in her as heart could 
wish.’ I’m sure I’ve had night-watches enough with him and 
his ailings; but it seems that they were not the sort of-watches 
he meant. Indeed, I didn’t know, till this evening, there were so 
many watches in the world, at all. But this is just what I want, 
and just what I’m resolved to have. Tier shall command one 
watch and I’ll command the other. Jack’s shall be the ‘ dog¬ 
watch,’ as they call it, and mine shall be the ‘ middle-watch,’ 
and last till morning. You shall be in Jack’s watch, Rose, and 
Biddy shall be in mine. You know a good deal that Jack don’t 
know, and Biddy can do a good deal I’m rather too stout to 
do. I don’t like pulling ropes, but as for ordering^ I’ll turn 
my back on no captain’s widow out of York.” 

Rose had her own misgivings on the subject of her aunt’s 
issuing orders on such a subject to any one, but she made the 
best of necessity, and completed the arrangements without 
further discussion. Her great anxiety was to secure a good 
night’s rest for Harry, already feeling a woman’s care in the com¬ 
fort and ease of the man she loved. And Rose did love Harry 
Mulford warmly and sincerely. If the very decided preference 
with which she regarded him before they sailed, had not abso¬ 
lutely amounted to passion, it had come so very near it as to 
render that access of feeling certain, under the influence of the 
association and events which succeeded. We have not thought 
it necessary to relate a tithe of the interviews and intercourse 
that had taken place between-the handsome mate and the 
pretty Rose Budd, during the month they had been shipmates, 
having left the reader to imagine the natural course of tiling^ 


234 


JACK TIER. 


under such circumstances. Nevertheless, the plighted troth 
had not been actually given until Harry joined her on the 
islet, at a moment when she fancied herself abandoned to a 
fate almost as serious as death. Rose had seen Mulford quit 
the brig, had watched the mode and manner of his escape, 
and in almost breathless amazement, and felt how dear to her 
he had become, by the glow of delight which warmed her 
heart, when assured that he could not, would not, forsake her, 
even though he remained at the risk of life. She was now, 
true to the instinct of her sex, mostly occupied in making 
such a return for an attachment so devoted as became her ten¬ 
derness and the habits of her mind. 

As Mrs. Budd chose what she was pleased to term the “ mid¬ 
dle-watch,” giving to Jack Tier and Rose her “dog-watch,” 
the two last were first on duty. It is scarcely necessary to 
say, the captain’s widow got the names of the watches all 
wrong, as she got the names of every thing else about a vessel; 
but the plan was to divide the night equally between these 
quasi mariners, giving the first half to those who were first on 
the look-out, and the remainder to their successors. It soon 
became so calm, that Jack left the helm, and came and sat by 
Rose, on the trunk, where they conversed confidentially for a 
long time. Although the reader will, hereafter, be enabled to 
form some plausible conjectures on the subject of this dialogue, 
we shall give him no part of it here. All that need now be 
said, is to add, that Jack did most of the talking, that his past 
life was the principal theme, and that the terrible Stephen 
Spike, he from whom they were now so desirous of escaping, was 
largely mixed up with the adventures recounted. Jack found 
in his companion a deeply interested listener, although this 
was by no means the first time they had gone over together 
the same story and discussed the same events. The conversa-^ 
tion lasted until Tier, who watched the glass, seeing that its 
sands had run out for the last time, announced the hour of 
midnight. This was the moment when Mulford should have 


JACK TIER. 


235 


been called, but when Mrs. Budd and Biddy Noon were ac¬ 
tually awakened in his stead. 

“ Now, dear aunty,” said Kose, as she parted from the new 
watch to go and catch a little sleep herself, “ remember you 
are not to awaken Harry first, but to call Tier and myself. It 
would have done your heart good to have seen how sweetly he 
has been sleeping all this time. I do not think he has stirred 
once since his head was laid on that bunch of sails, and there 
he is, at this moment, sleeping like an infant!” 

“Yes,” returned the relict, “it is always so with your true 
maritime people. I have been sleeping a great deal more 
soundly, the whole of the dog-watch, than I ever slept at 
home, in my own excellent bed. But it’s your watch below. 
Rosy, and contrary to the rule for you to stay on the deck, 
after you’ve been relieved. I’ve heard this a thousand 
times.” 

Rose was not sorry to lie down; and her head was scarcely 
on its pillow, in the cabin, before she was fast asleep. As for 
Jack, he found a place among Mulford’s sails, and was quickly 
in the same state. 

To own the truth, Mrs. Budd was not quite so much at ease, 
in her new station, for the first half hour, as she had fancied 
to herself might prove to be the case. It was a flat calm, it 
is true; but the widow felt oppressed with responsibility and 
the novelty of her situation. Time and again had she said, 
and even imagined, she should be delighted to fill the very 
station she then occupied, or to be in charge of a deck, in a 
“ middle-watch.” In this instance, however, as in so many 
others, reality did not equal anticipation. She wished to be 
doing every thing, but did not know how to do any thing. 
As for Biddy, she was even worse off than her mistress. A 
month’s experience, or for that matter a twelvemonth’s, could 
not unravel to her the mysteries of even a schooner’s rigging. 
Mrs.Budd had placed her “at the wheel,” as she called it, though 
the vessel had no wheel, being steered by a tiller on deck, in 


236 


JACK TIER. 


the ’long-shore fashion. In stationing Biddy, the widow told 
her that she was to play “ tricks at the wheel,” leaving it to 
the astounded Irishwoman’s imagination to discover what 
those tricks were. Failing in ascertaining what might be the 
nature of her “ tricks at the wheel,” Biddy was content to do 
nothing, and nothing, under the circumstances, was perhaps 
the very best thing she could have done. 

Little was required to be done for the first four hours of Mrs. 
Budd’s watch. All that time. Rose slept in her berth, and 
Mulford and Jack Tier on their sail, while Biddy had played 
the wheel a “trick,” indeed, by lying down on deck, and 
sleeping, too, as soundly as if she were in the county DoAvn 
itself. But there was to be an end of this tranquillity. Sud¬ 
denly the wind began to blow. At first, the breeze came in 
fitful puffs, which were neither very strong nor very lasting. 
This induced Mrs. Budd to awaken Biddy. Luckily, a schooner 
without a topsail could not very well be taken aback, espe¬ 
cially as the head-sheets worked on travellers, and Mrs. Budd 
and her assistant contrived to manage the tiller very well for 
the first hour that these varying puffs of wind lasted. It is 
true, the tiller was lashed, and it is also true, the schooner ran 
in all directions, having actually headed to all the cardinal 
points of the compass, under her present management. At 
length, Mrs. Budd became alarmed. A puff of wind came so 
strong, as to cause the vessel to lie over so far as to bring the 
water into the lee scuppefs. She called Jack Tier herself, 
therefore, and sent Biddy down to awaken Rose. In a minute, 
both these auxiliaries appeared on deck. The wind just then 
lulled, and Rose, supposing her aunt was frightened at trifles, 
insisted on it that Harry should be permitted to sleep on. He 
had turned over once, in the course of the night, but not once 
had he raised his head from his pillow. 

As soon as reinforced, Mrs. Budd began to bustle about, and 
to give commands, such as they were, in order to prove that 
she was unterrified. Jack Tier gaped at her elbow, and by 


JACK TIER. 


2B1 


way of something to do, he laid his hand on the painter of 
the Swash’s boat, which boat was towing astern, and remarked 
that “some know-nothing had belayed it with three half¬ 
hitches.” This was enough for the relict. She had often 
heard the saying that “ three half-hitches lost the king’s long¬ 
boat,” and she busied herself, at once, in repairing so imminent 
an evil. It was far easier for the good woman to talk than 
to act; she became what is called “ all fingers and thumbs,” 
and in loosening the third half-hitch, she cast ofi' the two 
others. At that instant a puff of wind struck the schooner 
again, and the end of the painter got away from the widow, 
who had a last glimpse at the boat, as the vessel darted 
ahead, leaving its little tender to vanish in the gloom of the 
night. 

Jack was excessively provoked at this accident, for he had 
foreseen the possibility of having recourse to that boat yet, in 
order to escape from Spike. By abandoning the schooner, 
and pulling on to the reef, it might have been possible to get 
out of their pursuer’s hands, when all other means should fail 
them. As he was at the tiller, he put his helm up, and ran 
off, until far enough to leeward to be to the westward of the 
boat, when he might tack, fetch and recover it. Nevertheless, 
it now blew much harder than he liked, for the schooner 
seemed to be unusually tender. Had he had the force to do 
it, he would have brailed the foresail. He desired Rose to 
call Mulford, but she hesitated about complying. 

“Call him—call the mate, I say,” cried out Jack, in a voice 
that proved how much he was in earnest. “ These puffs come 
heavy, I can tell you, and they come often, too. Call him— 
call him, at once. Miss Rose, for it is time to tack, if we wish 
to recover the boat. Tell him, too, to brail the foresail while 
we are in stays—that’s right; another call will start him up.” 

The other call was given, aided by a gentle shake from Rose’s 
hand. Harry was on his feet in a moment. A passing instant 
was necessary to clear his faculties, and to recover the tenor of 


238 


JACK TIER. 


his thoughts. During that instant, the mate heard Jack Tier’s 
shrill cry of “ Hard a-lee—get in that foresail—bear a-hand— 
in with it, I say !” 

The wind came rushing and roaring, and the flaps of the 
canvas were violent and heavy. 

“ In with the foresail, I say,” shouted Jack Tier. “ She flies 
round like a top, and will be off the wind on the other tack 
presently. Bear a-hand!—bear a-hand! It looks black as 
night to windward.” 

Mulford then regained all his powers. He sprang to the fore¬ 
sheet, calling on the others for aid. The violent surges pro¬ 
duced by the wind prevented his grasping the sheet as soon as 
he could wish, and the vessel whirled round on her heel, like a 
steed that is frightened. At that critical and dangerous instant, 
when the schooner was nearly without motion through the 
water, a squall struck the flattened sails, and bowed her down as 
the willow bends to the gale. Mrs. Budd and Biddy screamed as 
usual, and Jack shouted until his voice seemed cracked, to “ let 
go the head-sheets.” Mulford did make one leap forward, to 
execute this necessary oflBce, when the inclining plane of the 
deck told him it was too late. The wind fairly howled for a 
minute, and over went the schooner, the remains of her cargo 
shifting as she capsized, in a way to bring her very nearly 
bottom upward. 


JACK TIER. 


239 


CHAPTER VIII. 

“ Ay, fare you well, fair gentleman.”—As You Likk It. 

While the tyro believes the vessel is about to capsize at 
every puff of wind, the practised seaman alone knows when 
danger truly besets him in this particular form. Thus it was 
with Harry Mulford, when the Mexican schooner went over, as 
related in the close of the preceding chapter.. He felt no alarm 
until the danger actually came. Then, indeed, no one there 
was so quickly, or so thoroughly apprised of what the result 
would be, and he directed all his exertions to meet the exigency. 
While there was the smallest hope of success, he did not lessen, 
in the least, his endeavors to save the vessel; making almost 
superhuman efforts to cast off the fore-sheet, so as to relieve the 
schooner from the pressure of one of her sails. But no sooner 
did he hear the barrels in the hold surging to leeward, and feel 
by the inclination of the deck beneath his feet, that nothing 
could save the craft, than he abandoned the sheet and sprang to 
the assistance of Rose. It was time he did; for, having fol¬ 
lowed him into the vessel’s lee-waist, she was the first to be 
submerged in the sea, and would have been hopelessly drowned, 
but for Mulford’s timely succor. Women might swim more 
readily than men, and do so swim, in those portions of the 
world where the laws of nature are not counteracted by human 
conventions. Rose Budd, however, had received the vicious 
education which civilized society inflicts on her sex, and, as a 
matter of course, was totally helpless in an element in which it 
was the design of Divine Providence she should possess the 
common means of sustaining herself, like every other being 


240 


JACK TIER. 


endued with animal life. Not so with Miilford : he swam 
with ease and force, and had no difficulty in sustaining Rose 
until the schooner had settled into her new berth, or in hauling 
her on the vessel’s bottom immediately after. 

Luckily, there was no swell, or so little as not to endanger 
those who were on the schooner’s bilge; and Mulford had no 
sooner placed her in momentary safety at least, whom he prized 
far higher than his own life, than he bethought him of his other 
companions. Jack Tier had hauled himself up to windward by 
the rope that steadied the tiller, and he had called on Mrs. Budd 
to imitate his example. It was so natural for even a woman to 
grasp any thing like a rope at such a moment, that the 
widow instinctively obeyed, while Biddy seizied at random the 
first thing of the sort that offered. Owing to these fortunate 
chances, Jack and Mrs. Budd succeeded in reaching the quarter 
of the schooner, the former actually getting up on the bottom 
of the wreck, on to which he was enabled to float the widow, who 
was almost as buoyant as cork, as indeed was the case with 
Jack himself. All the stern and bows of the vessel were under 
water, in consequence of her leanness forward- and aft; but 
though submerged, she offered a precarious footing, even 
in these extremities, to such as could reach them. On the 
other hand, the place where Rose stood, or the bilge of the ves¬ 
sel, was two or three feet above the surface of the sea, though 
slippery and inclining in shape. 

It was not half a minute from the time that Mulford sprang 
to Rose’s succor, ere he had her on the vessel’s bottom. In an¬ 
other half minute, he Had waded down on the schooner’s coun¬ 
ter, where Jack Tier was lustily calling to him for “ help!” and 
assisted the widow to her feet, and supported her until she stood 
at Rose’s side. Leaving the last in her aunt’s amis, half dis¬ 
tracted between dread and joy, he turned to the assistance of 
Biddy. The rope at which the Insh woman had caught, was a 
straggling end that had been made fast to the main channels of 
the schooner, for the support of a fender, and had been hauled 


JACK TIER. 


241 


partly in-board to keep it out of the water. Biddy had found 
no difficulty in dragging herself up to the chains, therefore; and 
had she been content to sustain herself by the rope, leaving as 
much of her body submerged as comported with breathing, her 
task would have been easy. But, like most persons who do not 
know how to swim, the good woman was fast exhausting her 
strength, by vain efforts to walk on the surface of an element 
that was never made to sustain her. Unpractised persons, in 
such situations, cannot be taught to believe that their greatest 
safety is in leaving as much of their bodies as possible beneath 
the water, keeping the mouth and nose alone free for breath. 
But we have seen even instances in which men, who were in 
danger of drowning, seemed to believe it might be possible for 
them to crawl over the waves on their hands and knees. The 
philosophy of the contrary course is so very simple, that one 
would fancy a very child might be made to comprehend it; yet, 
it is rare to find one unaccustomed to the water, and who is sud¬ 
denly exposed to its dangers, that does not resort, under the 
pressure of present alarm, to the very reverse.of the true means 
to save his or her life. 

Mulford had no difficulty in finding Bridget, whose exclama¬ 
tions of “ Murther !” “help!” “ he-l-lup !” “Jasus!” and other 
similar cries, led him directly to the spot, where she was fast 
drowning herself by her own senseless struggles. Seizing her 
by the ami, the active young mate soon placed her on her feet, 
though her cries did not cease until she was ordered by her 
mistress to keep silence. 

Having thus rescued the whole of his companions from im¬ 
mediate danger, Mulford began to think of the future. He was 
seized with sudden surprise that the vessel did not sink, and for 
a minute he was unable to account for the unusual fact. On 
the former occasion, the schooner had gone down almost as soon 
as she fell over; but now she floated with so much buoyancy as 
to leave most of her keel and all of her bilge on one side quite 
clear of the water. As one of the main hatches was off, and 

11 


242 


JACK TIEK. 


the cabin-doors, and booby-hatch doors forward were open, and 
all were under water, it required a little reflection on the part 
of Mulford to understand on what circumstance all their lives 
now depended. The mate soon ascertained the truth, however, 
and we may as well explain it to the reader in our own fashion, 
in order to put him on a level with the young seaman. 

The puff of wind, or little squall, had struck the schooner at 
the most unfavorable moment for her safety. She had just lost 
her way in tacking, and the hull not moving ahead, as happens 
when a craft is thus assailed with the motion on her, all the 
power of the wind was expended in the direction necessary to 
capsize her. Another disadvantage arose from the want of motion. 
Tlie rudder, which acts solely by pressing against the water as the 
vessel meets it, was useless, and it was not possible to luff, and 
throw the wind from the sails, as is usually practised by fore-and- 
aft rigged craft, in moments of such peril. In consequence of 
these united difficulties, the shifting of the cargo in the hold, the 
tenderness of the craft itself, and the force of the squall, the 
schooner had gone so far over as to carry all three of the open¬ 
ings to her interior suddenly under water, where tkey remained, 
held by the pressure of the cargo that had rolled to leeward. 
Had not the water completely covered these openings, or hatches, 
the schooner must have sunk in a minute or two, or by the time 
Mulford had got all his companions safe on her bilge. But 
they were completely submerged, and so continued to be, which 
circumstance alone prevented the vessel from sinking, as the 
following simple explanation will show. 

Any person who will put an empty tumbler, bottom upwards, 
into a bucket of water, will find that the water will not rise 
within the tumbler more than an inch’at most. At that point 
it is arrested by the resistance of the air, which, unable to es¬ 
cape, and compressed into a narrow compass, forms a body that 
the other fluid cannot penetrate. It is on this simple and 
familiar principle, that the chemist keeps his gases, in inverted 
glasses, placing them on shelves, slightly submerged in water. 


JACK TIER. 


243 


Thus it was, then, that the schooner continued to float, though 
nearly bottom upward, and with three inlets open, by which 
the water could and did penetrate. A considerable quantity of 
the element had rushed in at the instant of capsizing, but meet¬ 
ing with resistance from the compressed and pent air, its pro¬ 
gress had been arrested, and the wreck continued to float, sus¬ 
tained by the buoyancy that was imparted to it, in containing 
so large a body of a substance no heavier than atmospheric air. 
After displacing its Aveight of water, enough of buoyancy re¬ 
mained to raise the keel a few feet above the level of the sea. 

As soon as Mulford had ascertained the facts of their situa¬ 
tion, he communicated them to his companions, encouraging 
them to hope for eventual safety. It was true, their situation 
was nearly desperate, admitting that the wreck should continue 
to float forever, since they were almost without food, or any 
thing to drink, and had no means of urging the hull through 
the water. They must float, too, at the mercy of the winds 
and waves, and should a sea get up, it might soon be impossible 
for Mulford himself to maintain his footing on the bottom of 
the wreck. All this the young man had dimly shadowed forth 
to him, through his professional experience; but the certainty 
of the vessel’s not sinking immediately had so far revived his 
spirits, as to cause him to look on the bright side of the future, 
pale as that glimmering of hope was made to appear whenever 
reason cast one of its severe glances athwart it. 

Harry had no difficulty in making Rose comprehend their 
precise situation. Her active and clear mind understood at 
once the causes of their present preservation, and most of the 
hazards of the future. It was not so Avith Jack Tier. He Avas 
composed, even resigned; but he could not see the reason Avhy 
the schooner still floated. 

“ I knoAv that the cabin-doors were open,” he said, ‘tand if 
they Avasn’t, of no great matter Avould it be, since the joints 
aren’t caulked, and the Avater would run through them as 
through a sieve. I’m afeard, Mr. Mulford, we shall find the 


244 


JACK TIER. 


wreck going from under our feet afore long, and when we least 
wish it, perhaps.” 

“ I tell you the wreck will float so long as the air remains in 
its hold,” returned the mate, cheerfully. “ Do you not see how 
buoyant it is ?—the certain proof that there is plenty of air 
within. So long as that remains, the hull must float.” 

“ I’ve always understood,” said Jack, sticking to his opinion, 
“ that wessels floats by vartue of water, and not by vartue of 
air; and, that when the water gets on the wrong side on ’em, 
there’s little hope left of keepin’ ’em up.” 

“ What has become of the boat ?” suddenly cried the mate. 
“ I have been so much occupied as to have forgotten the boat. 
In that boat we might all of us still reach Key West. I see 
nothing of the boat!” 

A profound silence succeeded this sudden and unexpected 
question. All knew that the boat was gone, and all knew 
that it had been lost by the widow’s pertinacity and clumsi¬ 
ness ; but no one felt disposed to betray her at that grave mo¬ 
ment. Mulford left the bilge, and waded as far aft as it was at 
all prudent for him to proceed, in the vain hope that the boat 
might be there, fastened by its painter to the schooner’s tafferel, 
as he had left it, but concealed from view by the darkness of 
the night. Not flnding what he was after, he returned to his 
companions, still uttering exclamations of surprise at the un¬ 
accountable loss of the boat. Rose now told him that the 
boat had got adrift some ten or fifteen minutes before the ac¬ 
cident befell them, and that they were actually endeavoring 
to recover it when the squall which capsized the schooner 
struck them. 

“ And why did you not call me. Rose ?” asked Harry, with 
a little of gentle reproach in his manner. “ It must have soon 
been my watch on deck, and it would have been better that I 
should lose half an hour of my watch below, than that we 
should lose the boat.” 

Rose was now obliged to confess that the time for calling 


JACK TIER. 


245 


him had long been past, and that the faint streak of light, 
whi(5h was just appearing in the east, was the near approach 
of day. This explanation was made gently, but frankly; and 
Mulford experienced a glow of pleasure at his heart, even in 
that moment of jeopardy, when he understood Rose’s motive 
for not having him disturbed. As the boat was gone, with 
little or no prospect of its being recovered again, no more was 
said about it *, and the widow, who had stood on thorns the 
while, had the relief of believing that her awkwardness was 
forgotten. 

It was such a relief from an imminent danger to have 
escaped from drowning when the schooner capsized, that those 
on her bottom did not, for some little time, realize all the ter¬ 
rors of their actual situation. The inconvenience of being wet 
was a trifle not to be thought of, and, in fact, the light sum¬ 
mer dresses worn by all, linen or cotton as they were entirely, 
were soon effectually dried in the wind. The keel made a 
tolerably convenient seat, and the whole party placed them¬ 
selves on it to await the return of day, in order to obtain a 
view of all that their situation offered in the way of a prospect. 
While thus awaiting, a broken and short dialogue occurred. 

“ Had you stood to the northward the whole night ?” asked 
Mulford, gloomily, of Jack Tier; for gloomily he began to feel, 
as all the facts of their case began to press more closely on his 
mind. “ If so, we must be well off the reef, and out of the 
track of wreckers and turtlers. Hoav had you the wind, and 
liow did you head before the accident happened ?” 

“ The wind was light the whole time, and for some hours it 
was nearly calm,” answered Jack, in the same vein. “ I kept 
the schooner’s head to the nor’ard, until I thought we were 
getting too far off our course, and then I put her about. I do 
not think we could have been any great distance from the 
reef, Avhen the boat got away from us, and I suppose we are 
in its neighborhood now, for I was tacking to fall in with the 
boat when the craft went over.” 


246 


JACK TIER. 


“ To fall in with the boat! Did you keep off to leeward of 
it, then, that you expected to fetch it by tacking ?” 

“ Ay, a good bit; and I think the boat is now away here to 
windward of us, drifting athwart our bows.” 

This was important news to Mulford. Could he only get 
that boat, the chances of being saved would be increased a 
hundred-fold, nay, would almost amount to a certainty; 
whereas, so long as the wind held to the southward and east¬ 
ward, the drift of the wreck must be towards the open water, 
and, consequently, so much the farther removed from the 
means of succor. The general direction of the trades, in that 
quarter of the world, is east, and should they get round into 
their old and proper quarter, it would not benefit them much; 
for the reef running southwest, they could scarcely hope to hit 
the Dry Tortugas again, in their drift, were life even spared 
them sufficiently long to float the distance. Then there might 
be currents, about which Mulford knew nothing with certainty; 
they might set them in any direction; and .did they exist, as 
was almost sure to be the case, were much more powerful than 
the wind in controlling the movements of a wreck. 

The mate strained his eyes in the direction pointed out by 
Jack Tier, in the hope of discovering the boat through the 
haze of the morning, and he actually did discern something 
that, it appeared to him, might be the much-desired little 
craft. If he were right, there was every reason to think the boat 
would drift down so near them as to enable him to recover it 
by swimming. Tliis cheering intelligence was communicated 
to his companions, who received it with gratitude and delight. 
But the approach of day gradually dispelled that hope, the 
object which Mulford had mistaken for the boat, within two 
hundred yards of the wreck, turning out to be a small, low, 
but bare hummock of the reef, at a distance of more than two 
miles. 

“ That is a proof that we are not far from the reef, at least,” 
cried Mulford, willing to encourage those around him all he 


JACK TIER. 


247 


could, and really mucli relieved at finding liirnself so near even 
this isolated fragment of terra Jirma. “ This fact is the next 
encouraging thing to finding ourselves near the boat, or to 
falling in with a sail.” 

ay,” said Jack, gloomily; “boat or no boat, ’twill 
make no great matter of difference now. There’s customers 
that’ll be sartain to take all the grists you can send to their 
mill.” 

“ What things are those glancing about the vessel ?” cried 
Rose, almost in the same breath; “ those dark, sharp-looking 
sticks—see, there are five or six of them ! and they move as 
if fastened to something under the water that pulls them 
about.” 

“ Them’s the customers I mean. Miss Rose,” answered Jack, 
in the same strain as that in which he had first spoken; 
“they’re the same thing at sea as lawyers be ashore, and 
seem made to live on other folks. Them’s sharks.” 

“And yonder is truly the boat!” added Mulford, with a 
sigh that almost amounted to a groan. The light had, by this 
time, so far returned as to enable the party not only to see 
the fins of half a dozen sharks, which were already prowling 
about the wreck, the almost necessary consequence of their 
proximity to a reef in that latitude, but actually to discern the 
boat drifting down towards them, at a distance that promised 
to carry it past, within the reach of Mulford’s powers of swim¬ 
ming, though not as near as he could have wished, even under 
more favorable circumstances. Had their extremity been 
greater, or had Rose begun to suffer from hunger or thirst, 
Mulford might have attempted the experiment of endeavoring 
to regain the boat, though the chances of death, by means of 
the sharks, would be more than equal to those of escape; but 
still fresh, and not yet feeling even the heat of the sun of that 
low latitude, he was not quite goaded into such an act of des¬ 
peration. All that remained for the party, therefore, was to 
sit on the keel of the wreck, and gaze with longing eyes at a 


248 


J A € K TIER. 


little object Hoatiiig past, wliicli, once at their command, might 
so readily be made to save them from a fate that already be¬ 
gan to appear terrible in the perspective. Nearly an hour was 
thus consumed, ere the boat was about half a mile to leeward; 
during which scarcely an eye was turned from it for one in¬ 
stant, or a word was spoken. 

“ It is beyond my reach now !” Mulford at length exclaim¬ 
ed, sighing heavily, like one who became conscious of some 
great and irretrievable loss. “Were there no sharks, I could 
hardly venture to attempt swimming so far, with the boat 
drifting from me at the same time.” 

“ I should never consent to let you make the trial, Harry,” 
murmured Rose, “ though it were only half as far.” 

Another pause succeeded. 

“We have now the light of day,” resumed the mate, a min¬ 
ute or two later, “ and may see our true situation. No sail is in 
sight, and the wind stands steadily in its old quarter. Still I 
do not think we leave the reef. There, you'may see breakers 
off here at the southward, and it seems as if more rocks rise 
above the sea, in that direction. I do not know that our situa¬ 
tion would be any the better, however, were we actually on them, 
instead of being on this ffoating week.” 

“The rocks will never sink,” said Jack Tier, with so much 
emphasis as to startle the listeners. 

“ I do not think this hull will sink until we are taken off it, 
or are beyond caring whether it sink or swim,” returned Mul¬ 
ford. 

“ I do not know that, Mr. Mulford. Nothing keeps us up but 
the air in the hold, you say.” 

“ Certainly not; but that air will suffice as long as it remains 
there.” 

“ And what do you call these things ?” rejoined the assistant 
steward, pointing at the water near him, in or on which no one 
else saw any thing worthy of attention. 

Mulford, however, was not satisfied with a cursory glance 


JACK TIER. 


249 


but went nearer to the spot where Tier was standing. Then, 
indeed, he saw to what the steward alluded, and was impressed 
by it, though he said nothing. Hundreds of little bubbles rose 
to the surface of the water, much as one sees them risinir in 
springs. These bubbles are often met with in lakes and other 
comparatively shallow waters, but they are rarely seen in those 
of the ocean. The mate understood, at a glance, that those he 
now beheld were produced by the air which escaped from the 
hold of the wreck; in small quantities at a time, it was true, 
but by a constant and increasing process. The great pressure 
of the water forced this air through crevices so minute that, 
under ordinary circumstances, they would have proved impene¬ 
trable to this, as they were still to the other fluid, though they 
now permitted the passage of the former. It might take a 
long time to force the air from the interior of the vessel by such 
means, but the result was as certain as it might be slow. As 
constant dropping will wear a stone, so might the power that 
kept the wreck afloat be exhausted by the ceaseless rising of 
these minute air-bubbles. 

Although Mulford was entirely sensible of the nature of this 
new source of danger, we cannot say he was much affected by 
it at the moment. It seemed to him far more probable that 
they must die of exhaustion, long before the wreck would lose all 
of its buoyancy by this slow process, than that even the strongest 
of their number could survive for such a period. The new 
danger, therefore, lost most of its terrors under this view of the 
subject, though it certainly did not add to the small sense of 
security that remained, to know that inevitably their fate must 
be sealed through its agency, should they be able to hold out 
for a sufficient time against hunger and thirst. It caused Mul¬ 
ford to muse in silence for many more minutes. 

“ I hope we are not altogether without food,” the mate at 
length said. “ It sometimes happens that persons at sea carry 
pieces of biscuit in their pockets, especially those who keep watch 
at night. The smallest morsel is now of the last importance.” 

11 ^ 


250 


JACK TIER. 


At this suggesticm, every one set about an examination. The 
result was, that neither Mrs. Budd nor Rose had a particle of 
food, of any sort, about their persons. Biddy produced from 
her pockets, however, a whole biscuit, a large bunch of excel¬ 
lent raisins that she had filched from the steward’s stores, and 
two apples,—the last being the remains of some fruit that 
Spike had procured a month earlier in New York. Mulford 
had half a biscuit, at which he had been accustomed to nibble 
in his watches ; and Jack lugged out; along with a small plug 
of tobacco, a couple of sweet oranges. Here, then, was every 
thing in the shape of victuals or drink, that could be found 
for the use of five persons, in all probability for many days. 
The importance of securing it for equal distribution, was so ob¬ 
vious, that Mulford’s proposal to do so met with a common as¬ 
sent. The whole was put in Mrs. Budd’s bag, and she was 
intrusted with the keeping of this precious store. 

“ It may be harder to abstain from food^at first, when we 
have not suffered from its want, than it will become after a little 
endurance,” said the mate. “ We are now strong, and it will 
be wiser to fast as long as we conveniently can, to-day, and 
relieve our hunger by a moderate allowance towards evening, 
than to waste our means by too much indulgence at a time 
when we are strong. Weakness will be sure to come if we re¬ 
main long on the wreck.” 

“ Have you ever suffered in this way, Harry ?” demanded 
Rose, with interest. 

“ I have, and that dreadfully. But a merciful Providence 
came to my rescue then, and it may not fail me no’w. The 
seaman is accustomed to carry his life in his hand, and to live 
on the edge of eternity.” 

The truth of this was so apparent as to produce a thought¬ 
ful silence. Anxious glances were cast around the horizon 
from time to time, in quest of any sail that might come in 
sight, but uselessly. None appeared, and the day advanced 
without bringing the slightest prospect of relief. Mulford could 


JACK TIER. 


251 


see, by the now almost sunken hummocks, that they were 
slowly drifting along the reef, towards the southward and east¬ 
ward, a current no doubt acting slightly from the northwest. 
Their proximity to the reef, however, was of no advantage, as the 
distance was still so great as to render any attempt to reach it, 
even on the part of the mate, unavailable. Nor would he have 
been any better off could he have gained a spot on the rocks 
that was shallow enough to admit of his walking, since wading 
about in such a place would have been less desirable than to be 
floating w^here he was. 

The want of water to drink threatened to be the great evil. 
Of this the party on the wreck had not a single drop ! As the 
warmth of the day was added to the feverish feeling produced 
by excitement, they all experienced thirst, though no one mur¬ 
mured. So utterly without means of relieving this necessity 
did each person know them all to be, that no one spoke on the 
subject at all. In fact, shipwreck never produced a more com¬ 
plete destitution of all the ordinary agents of helping them¬ 
selves, in any form or manner, than w'as the case here. So sud¬ 
den and complete had been the disaster, that not a single article, 
beyond those on the persons of the sufferers, came even in view. 
The masts, sails, rigging, spare spars, in a word, every thing 
belonging to the vessel was submerged and hidden from their 
sight, with the exception of a portion of the vessel’s bottom, 
which might be forty feet in length, and some ten or flfteen in 
width, including that which was above water on both sides of 
the keel, though one only of these sides was available to the 
females, as a place to move about on. Had Mulford only a 
boat-hook, he would have felt it a relief; for not only did the 
sharks increase in number, but they grew more audacious, swim¬ 
ming so near the wreck that, more than once, Mulford appre¬ 
hended that some one of the boldest of them might make an 
effort literally to board them. It is true, he had never known of 
one of these fishes attempting to quit his own element in pur¬ 
suit of his prey; but such things were reported, and those 


25.2 


.JACK TIER. 


around the wreck swam so close, and seemed so eager to get at 
those who were on it, that there really might be some excuse 
for fancying they might resort to unusual means of effecting 
their object. It is probable that, like all other animals, they 
were emboldened by their own numbers, and were acting in a 
sort of concert, that was governed by some of the many mys¬ 
terious laws of nature that have still escaped human observa¬ 
tion. 

Thus passed the earlier hours of that appalling day. Towards 
noon, Mulford had insisted on the females dividing one of the 
oranges between them, and extracting its juice by way of as¬ 
suaging their thirst. The effect was most grateful, as all ad¬ 
mitted, and even Mrs. Budd urged Harry and Tier to take a 
portion of the remaining orange; but this both steadily re¬ 
fused. Mulford did consent to receive a small portion of one of 
the apples, more with a view of moistening his throat than to 
appease his hunger, though it had, in a slight degree, the latter 
effect also. As for Jack Tier, Ire declined even the morsel of 
apple, saying that tobacco answered his purpose, as indeed it 
temporarily might. 

It was near sunset when the steward’s assistant called Mul¬ 
ford aside, and whispered to him that he had something private 
to communicate. The mate bade him say on, as they were out 
of ear-shot of their companions. 

“ I’ve been in sitiations like this afore,” said Jack, “ and one 
I’arns exper’ence by exper’ence. I know how cruel it is on the 
feelin’s to have the hopes disapp’inted in these cases, and there¬ 
fore shall proceed with caution. But, Mr. Mulford, there’s a 
sail in sight, if there’s a drop of Avater in the Gulf!” 

“A sail. Jack! I trust in Heaven you are not deceived !” 

“ Old eyes are true eyes in such matters, sir. Be careful not 
to start the women. They go off like gunpoAvder, and. Lord 
help ’em! have no more command over themselves, when you 
loosen ’em once, than so many flying-fish Avith a dozen dolphins 
a’ter them. Look hereaway, sir, just clear of the Irishwoman’s 


JACK TIER. 


253 


bonnet, a little broad off the spot where the reef was last seen— 
if that ain’t a sail, my name is not Jack Tier.” 

A sail there was, sure enough! It was so very distant, how¬ 
ever, as to render its character still uncertain, though Mulford 
fancied it was a square-rigged vessel heading to the northward. 
By its position, it must be in one of the channels of the reef, 
and by its course, if he were not deceived, it was standing 
through, from the main passage along the southern side of the 
rocks, to come out on the northern. All this was favorable, 
and at first the young mate felt such a throbbing of the heart 
as we all experience when great and unexpected good intelli¬ 
gence is received. A moment’s reflection, however, made him 
aware how little was to be hoped for from this vessel. In the 
first place, her distance was so great as to render it uncertain 
even which way she was steering. Then, there was the proba¬ 
bility that she would pass at so great a distance as to render it 
impossible to perceive an object so low as the wreck, and the 
additional chance of her passing in the night. Under all the 
circumstances, therefore, Mulford felt convinced that there was 
very little probability of their receiving any succor from the 
strange sail; and he fully appreciated Jack Tier’s motive in 
forbearing to give the usual call of “ Sail ho !” when he made 
this discovery. Still, he could not deny himself the pleasure 
of communicating to Rose the cheering fact that a vessel was 
actually in sight. She could not reason on the circumstances 
as he had done, and might at least pass several hours of com¬ 
parative happiness by believing that there was some visible 
chance of delivery. 

The females received the intelligence with very different de¬ 
grees of hope. Rose was delighted. To her their rescue 
appeared an event so very probable now, that Harry Mulford 
almost regretted he had given rise to an expectation which he 
himself feared was to be disappointed. The feelings of Mrs. 
Budd were more suppressed. The wreck and her present situ¬ 
ation were so completely at variance with all her former notions 


254 


JACK TIER. 


of the sea and its incidents, that she was almost dumb-founded, 
and feared either to speak or to think. Biddy differed from 
either of her mistresses—the young or the old; she appeared to 
have lost all hope, and her physical energy was fast giving way 
under her profound moral debility. 

From the return of light that day, Mulford had thought, if it 
were to prove that Providence had withdrawn its protecting 
hand from them, Biddy, who to all appearance ought to be the 
longest liver among the females at least, would be the first to 
sink under her sufferings. Such is the influence of moral causes 
on the mere animal. 

Rose saw the night shut in around them, amid the solemn 
solitude of the ocean, with a mingled sensation of awe and hope. 
She had prayed devoutly, and often, in the course of the pre¬ 
ceding day, and her devotions had contributed to calm her 
spirits. Once or twice, while kneeling with her head bowed to 
the keel, she had raised her eyes towards Harry with a look of 
entreaty, as if she would implore him to humble his proud spirit 
and place himself at her side, and ask that succor from God 
which was so much needed, and which indeed it began most 
seriously to appear that God alone could yield. The young 
mate did not comply, for his pride of profession and of man¬ 
hood offered themselves as stumbling-blocks to prevent submis¬ 
sion to his secret wishes. Though he rarely prayed, Harry 
Mulford was far from being an unbeliever, or one altogether 
regardless of his duties and obligations to his divine Creator. 
On the contrary, his heart was more disposed to resort to such 
means of self-abasement and submission than he put in practice, 
and this because he had been taught to believe that the Anglo- 
Saxon mariner did not call on Hercules, on every occasion of 
difliculty and distress that occurred, as was the fashion with the 
Italian and Romish seamen, but he put his own shoulder to the 
wheel, confident that Hercules would not forget to help him 
who knew how to help himself. But Harry had great difficulty 
in withstanding Rose’s silent appeal that evening, as she knelt 


JACK TIER. 


255 


at the keel for the last time, and turned her gentle eyes upward 
at him, as if to ask him once more to take his place at her side. 
Withstand the appeal he did, however, though in his inward 
spirit he prayed fervently to God to put away this dreadful 
affliction from the young and innocent creature before him. 
When these evening devotions were ended, the whole party be¬ 
came thoughtful and silent. 

It was necessary to sleep, and arrangements were made to do 
so, if possible, with a proper regard for their security. Mulford 
and Tier were to have the look-out, watch and watch. This 
was done that no vessel might pass near them unseen, and that 
any change in the weather might be noted and looked to. As it 
was, the wind had fallen, and seemed about to vary, though it 
yet stood in its old quarter, or a little more easterly, perhaps. 
As a consequence, the drift of the wreck, insomuch as it de¬ 
pended on the currents of the air, was more nearly in a line 
with the direction of the reef, and there was little ground for 
apprehending that they might be driven further from it in the 
night. Although that reef offered in reality no place of safety, 
that was available to his party, Mulford felt it as a sort of relief, 
to be certain that it was not distant, possibly influenced by a 
vague hope that some passing wrecker or turtler might yet pick 
them up. 

The bottom of the schooner and the destitute condition of the 
party admitted of only very simple arrangements for the night. 
The females placed .themselves against the keel in the best man¬ 
ner they could, and thus endeavored to get a little of the rest 
they so much needed. The day had been warm, as a matter 
of course, and the contrast produced by the setting of the sun 
was at first rather agreeable than otherwise. Luckily Rose had 
thrown a shawl over her shoulders not long before the vessel 
capsized, and in this shawl she had been saved. It had been 
dried, and it now served for a light covering to herself and her 
aunt, and added essentially to their comfort. As for Biddy, she 
was too hardy to need a shawl, and she protested that she 


256 


JACK TIER. 


should not think of using one, had she been better provided. 
The patient, meek manner in which tliat humble, but generous- 
hearted creature submitted to her fate, and the earnestness with 
which she had begged that “ Miss Rosy” might have her mor¬ 
sel of the portion of biscuit each received for a supper, had 
sensibly impressed Mulford in her favor; and knowing how 
much more necessary food was to sustain one of her robust 
frame and sturdy habits, than to Rose, he had contrived to give 
the woman, unknowm to herself, a double allow^ance. Nor was 
it surprising that Biddy did not detect this little act of fraud in 
her favor, for this double allowance was merely a single mouth¬ 
ful. The want of water had made itself much more keenly felt 
than the want of food, for as yet anxiety, excitement, and ap¬ 
prehension prevented the appetite from being much a^vakened, 
while the claims of thirst were increased rather than diminished, 
by these very causes. Still, no one had complained, on this or 
any other account, throughout the whole of the long and weary 
day which had passed. 

Mulford took the first look-out, with the intention of catch¬ 
ing a little sleep, if possible, during the middle hours of the 
night, and of returning to his duty as morning approached. 
For the first hour nothing occurred to divert his attention from 
brooding on the melancholy circumstances of their situation. 
It seemed as if all around him had actually lost the sense of 
their cares in sleep, and no sound was audible amid that ocean 
waste, but the light washing of the water, as the gentle waves 
rolled at intervals against the weather-side of the wreck. It 
was now that Mulford found a moment for prayer, and seated 
on the keel, he called on the Divine aid, in a fervent but 
silent petition to God, to put away this trial from the youthful 
and beautiful Rose, at least, though he himself perished. It 
was the first prayer that Mulford had made in many months, or 
since he had joined the Swash—a craft in wdiich that duty was 
very seldom thought of. 

A few minutes succeeded this petition, when Biddy spoke. 


JACK TIER. 


257 


“ Missus—Madam Budd—dear Missus”—half whispered the 
Irish woman, anxious not to disturb Rose, who lay furthest from 
her—“ Missus, bees ye asleep at sich a time as this ?” 

“ No, Biddy ; sleep and I are strangers to each other, and are 
likely to be till morning. What do you wish to say f’ 

“Any thing is betther than my own t’oughts, missus dear, and 
I wants to talk to ye. Is it no wather at all they’ll give us so 
long as we stay in this place ?” 

“ There is no one to give it to us but God, poor Biddy, and 
he alone can say what, in his gracious mercy,.it may please 
him to do. Ah ! Biddy, I fear me that I did an unwise and 
thoughtless thing to bring my poor Rose to such a place as 
this. Were it to be done over again, the riches of Wall-street 
would not tempt me to be guilty of so wrong a thing !” 

The arm of Rose was thrown around her aunt’s neck, and 
its gentle pressure announced how completely the offender was 
forgiven. 

“ I’s very sorry for Miss Rose,” rejoined Biddy, “ and I suf¬ 
fers so much the more meself in thinking how hard it must be 
for the like of her to be wantin’ in a swallow of fresh wather.” 

“ It is no harder for me to bear it, poor Biddy,” answered the 
gentle voice of our heroine, “ than it is for yourself.” 

“ Is it meself, then ? Sure am I, that if I had a quar-r-t 
of good swate wather from our own pump, and thath far betther 
is it than the Crothon, the best day the Crothon ever seed— 
but had I a quar-r-t of it, every dhrap would I give to you. 
Miss Rose, to app’ase your thirst, I would.” 

“ Water would be a great relief to us all, just now, my ex¬ 
cellent Biddy,” answered Rose, “and I wish we had but a 
tumbler full of that you name, to divide equally among the 
whole five of us.” 

“ Is it divide ? Then it would be ag’in dividin’ that my 
voice w^ould be raised, for that same r’ason that the tumbler 
would never hold as much as you could dhrink yourself, Miss 
Rose.” 


258 


JACK TIER. 


“ Yet the tumbler full would be a great blessing for us all 
just now,” murmured Mrs. Budd. 

“ And isn’t mutthon good ’atin’, ladies ? Ocli! if I had but 
a good swate pratie, now, from my own native Ireland, and a 
dlirap of milk to help w^ash it down ! It’s mighty little that a 
body thinks of sich thrifles when there’s abundance of them; 
but when there’s none at all, they get to be stronger in the 
mind than riches and honors.” 

“You say the'truth, Biddy,” rejoined the mistress, “and 
there is a pleasure in talking of them, if one can’t enjoy them. 
I’ve been thinking all the afternoon. Rose, what a delicious 
food is a good roast turkey, with cranberry sauce; and I won¬ 
der, now, that I have not been more grateful for the very many 
that Providence has bestowed on me in my time. My poor 
Mr. Budd was passionately fond of mutton, and I used wickedly 
to laugh at his fondness for it, sometimes, when he always had 
his answer ready, and that was, that there are no sheep at sea ! 
How true that is. Rosy dear! there are, indeed, no sheep at 
sea!” 

“ No, aunty,” answered Rose’s gentle voice from beneath 
the shawl;—“ there are no such animals on the ocean, but God 
is with us here as much as he would be in New York.” 

A long silence succeeded this simple remark of his well 
beloved, and the young mate hoped that there would be no 
more of a dialogue, every syllable of which was a dagger to 
his feelings. But nature was stronger than reflection in Mrs. 
Budd and Biddy, and the latter spoke again, after a pause of 
near a quarter of an hour. 

“ Pray for me. Missus,” she said, meaningly, “ that I may 
sleep. A bit of sleep would do a body almost as much good 
as a bit of bread—I won’t say as much as a dhrap of wather.” 

“Be quiet, Biddy, and we imll pray for you,” answered 
Rose, who fancied by her breathing that her aunt was about 
to forget her sufferings for a brief space, in broken slumbers. 

“Is it for you I’ll do that—^w^ sure will I, Miss Rose. 


JACK TIER. 


259 


Niver would I have quitted Ireland, could I have thought 
there was sich a spot on this earth as a place where no wather 
was to be had.” 

This was the last of Biddy’s audible complaints, for the re¬ 
mainder of this long and anxious watch of Mulford. He then 
set himself about an arrangement which shall be mentioned 
in its proper place. At twelve o’clock, or when he thought 
it was twelve, he called Jack Tier, who in turn called the mate 
again at four. 

“ It looks dark and threatening,” said Mulford, as he rose to 
his feet and began to look about him once more, “though 
there does not appear to be any wind.” 

“ It’s a flat calm, Mr. Mate, and the darkness comes from 
yonder cloud, which seems likely to bring a little rain.” 

“ Rain ! Then God is indeed with us here. You are right. 
Jack; rain must fall from that cloud. We must catch some 
of it, if it be only a drop to cool Rose’s parched tongue.” 

“ In what ?” answered Tier, gloomily. “ She may wring her 
clothes when the shower is over, and in that way get a drop. 
I see no other method.” 

“ I have bethought me of all that, and passed most of my 
watch in making the preparations.” 

Mulford then showed Tier what he had been about, in the 
long and solitary hours of the flrst watch. It would seem that 
the young man had dug a little trench with his knife, along 
the schooner’s bottom, commencing two or three feet from the 
keel, and near the spot where Rose was lying, and carrying it 
as far as was convenient towards the run, until he reached a 
point where he had dug out a sort of reservoir to contain the 
precious fluid, should any be sent them by Providence. While 
doing this, there were no signs of rain; but the young man 
knew that a shower alone could save them from insanity, if 
not from death; and in speculating on the means of profiting 
by one, should it come, he had bethought him of this expe¬ 
dient. The large knife of a seaman had served him a good 


260 


JACK TIER. 


turn in carrying on his work, to complete which there remained 
now very little to do, and that was in enlarging the receptacle 
for the water. The hole was already big enough to contain a 
pint, and it might easily be sufficiently enlarged to hold double 
that quantity. 

Jack was no sooner made acquainted with what had been 
done, than he out knife and commenced tearing splinter after 
splinter from the planks, to help enlarge the reservoir. This 
could only be done by cutting on the surface, for the wood 
was not three inches in thickness, and the smallest hole 
through the plank, would have led to the rapid escape of the 
air, and to the certain sinking of the wreck. It required a 
good deal of judgment to preserve the necessary level also, and 
Mulford was obliged to interfere more than once to prevent 
his companion from doing more harm than good. He suc¬ 
ceeded, however, and had actually made a cavity that might 
contain more than a quart of water, when the first large drop 
fell from the heavens. This cavity was not a hole, but a long, 
deep trench—deep for the circumstances—so nicely cut on the 
proper level, as to admit of its holding a fluid in the quantity 
mentioned. 

‘‘ Rose—dearest—rise, and be ready to drink,” said Mulford, 
tenderly disturbing the uneasy slumbers of his beloved. “ It is 
about to rain, and God is with us here, as he might be on the 
land.” 

“ Wather !” exclaimed Biddy, who was awoke with the same 
call. “ What a blessed thing is good swate wather, and sure 
am I we ought all to be thankful that there is such a precious 
gift in the wor-r-ld.” 

“ Come, then,” said Mulford, hurriedly, “ it will soon rain—I 
hear it pattering on the sea. Come hither, all of you, and 
drink, as a merciful God furnishes the means.” 

This summons was not likely to be neglected. All arose in 
haste, and the word “ water” was murmured from every lip. 
Biddy had less self-command than the others, and she was heard 


JACK TIER. 


261 


saying aloud,—“ Och! and didn’t I dhrame of tlie blessed 
springs and wells of Ireland the ni^t, and haven’t I dhrunk 
at ’em all ? But now it’s over, and I am awake, no good has’t 
done me, and I’m ready to die for one dhrap of wather.” 

That drop soon came, however, and with it the blessed relief 
which such a boon bestows. Mulford had barely time to explain 
his arrangements, and to place the party, on their knees, along 
his little reservoir and the gutter which led to it, when the 
pattering of the rain advanced along the sea, with a deep rush¬ 
ing sound. Presently, the uplifted faces and open mouths 
caught a few heavy straggling drops, to cool the parched 
tongues, when the water came tumbling down upon them in a 
thousand little streams. There was scarcely any wind, and 
merely the skirt of a large black cloud floated over the wreck, 
on which the rain fell barely one minute. But it fell as rain 
comes down within the tropics, and in sufficient quantities for 
all present purposes. Everybody drank and found relief; and, 
when all was over, Mulford ascertained by examination that 
his receptacle for the fluid was still full to overflowing. The 
abstinence had not been of sufficient length, nor the quantity 
taken of large enough amount, to produce injury, though the 
thirst was generally and temporarily appeased. It is probable 
that the coolness of the hour, day dawning as the cloud moved 
past, and the circumstance that the sufferers were wetted to 
their skins, contributed to the change. 

“ Och, blessed, blessed wather!” exclaimed Biddy, as she 
rose from her knees; “ America, afther all, isn’t as dhry a 
country as some say. I’ve niver tasted swater wather in Ire¬ 
land itself!” 

Rose murmured her thanksgiving in more appropriate lan¬ 
guage. A few exclamations also escaped Mrs. Budd, and Jack 
Tier had his sententious eulogy on the precious qualities of 
sweet water. 

The wind rose as the day advanced, and a swell began to 
heave the wreck with a power that had hitherto been dormant. 


262 


JACK TIER. 


Mulforcl understood this to be a sign that there had been a 
blow at some distance from them, that had thrown the sea 
into a state of agitation which extended itself beyond the in¬ 
fluence of the wind. Eagerly did the young mate examine 
the horizon, as the curtain of night arose, inch by inch, as it 
might be, on the watery panorama, in the hope that a vessel 
of some sort or other might be brought within the view. Nor 
was he wholly disappointed. The strange sail seen the pre¬ 
vious evening was actually there; and what was more, so near 
as to allow her hull to be distinctly visible. It was a ship, 
under her square canvas, standing from between divided por¬ 
tions of the reef, as if getting to the northward, in order to 
avoid the opposing current of the Gulf Stream. Vessels bound 
to Mobile, New Orleans, and other ports along the coast of the 
Republic, in that quarter of the ocean, often did this; and 
when the young mate first caught glimpses of the shadowy 
outline of this ship, he supposed it to be some packet, or 
cotton-droger, standing for her port on the northern shore. But 
a few minutes removed the veil, and with it the error of this 
notion. A seaman could no longer mistake the craft. Her 
length, her square and massive hamper, with the symmetry of 
her spars, and the long, straight outline of the hull, left no 
doubt that it was a cruiser, with her hammocks uustowed. 
Mulford now cheerfully announced to his companions, that the 
ship they so plainly saw, scarcely a gun-shot distant from them, 
was the sloop-of-war which had already become a sort of ac¬ 
quaintance. 

“ If we can succeed in making them see our signal,” cried 
Mulford, “ all will yet be well. Come, Jack, and help me to 
put abroad this shawl, the only ensign we can show.” 

Tlie shawl of Rose was the signal spread. Tier and Mulford 
stood on the keel, and holding opposite corners, let the rest of 
the cloth blow out with the wind. For near an hour did these 
two extend their arms, and try all possible expedients to make 
their signal conspicuous. But, unfortiiuately, the wind blew 


JACK TIER. 


263 


directly towards the cruiser, and instead of exposing a surface 
of any breadth to the vision of those on board her, it must, at 
most, have offered little more than a flitting, waving line. 

As the day advanced, sail was made on tlie cruiser. She 
had stood through the passage, in which she had been becalm¬ 
ed most of the night, under short canvas; but now she threw 
out fold after fold of her studding-sails, and moved away to the 
westward, with the stately motion of a ship before the wind. 
No sooner had she got far enough to the northward of the 
reef, than she made a deviation from her course as first seen, 
turning her stern entirely to the wreck, and rapidly becoming- 
less and less distinct to the eyes of those who floated on it. 

Mulford saw the hopelessness of their case, as it respected 
relief from this vessel; still, he persevered in maintaining his 
position on the keel, tossing and waving the shawl, in all the 
variations that his ingenuity could devise. He well knew, 
however, that their chances of being seen would have been 
trebled could they have been ahead instead of astern of the 
ship. Mariners have few occasions to look behind them, while 
a hundred watchful eyes are usually turned ‘ahead, more espe¬ 
cially when running near rocks and shoals. Mrs. Budd wept 
like an infant when she saw the sloop-of-war gliding away, 
reaching a distance that rendered sight useless, in detecting an 
object that floated as low on the water as the wreck. As for 
Biddy, unable to control her feelings, the poor creature actual¬ 
ly called to_the crew of the departing vessel, as if her voice had 
the power to make itself heard, at a distance which already ex¬ 
ceeded two leagues. It was only by means of the earnest 
remonstrances of Rose, that the faithful creature could be 
quieted. 

“Why will ye not come to our relaif?” she cried at the top 
of her voice. “ Here are we, helpless as new-born babies, and 
ye sailing away from us in a conthrary way! D’ye not be¬ 
think you of the Missus, who is much of a sailor, but not sich 
a one as to sail on a wrack; and poor Miss Rose, who is the 


2o4 


JACK TIER. 


char-rm and delight of all eyes. Only come and take off Miss 
Rose, and lave the rest of us, if ye so likes; for it’s a sin and a 
shame to lave the likes of her to die in the midst of the ocean, 
as if she was no betther nor a fish. Then it will be soon that 
we shall ag’in feel the want of wather, and that, too, with no¬ 
thing but wather to be seen on all sides of us.” 

“It is of no use,” said Harry, mournfully, stepping down 
from the keel, and laying aside the shawl. “ They cannot see 
us, and the distance is now so great as to render it certain they 
never will. There is only one hope left. We are evidently set 
to and fro by the tides, and it is possible that by keeping in or 
near this passage, some other craft may appear, and we be 
more fortunate. The relief of the rain is a sign that we are 
not forgotten by Divine Providence, and with such a protector 
we ought not to despair.” 

A gloomy and scanty breaking of the fast succeeded. Each 
person had one large mouthful of bread, which was all that 
prudence would authorize Mulford to distribute. He attempt¬ 
ed a pious fraud, however, by placing his own allowance along 
with that of Rose’s, under the impression that her strength 
might not endure pi ivation as well as his»own. But the tender 
solicitude of Rose was not to be thus deceived. Judging of 
his wishes and motives by her own, she at once detected the 
deception, and insisted on retaining no more than her proper 
share. When this distribution was completed, and the meager 
allowance taken, only sufficient bread remained to make one 
more similar scanty meal, if meal a single mouthful could be 
termed. As for the water, a want of which would be certain 
to be felt as soon as the sun obtained its noonday power, the 
shawl was extended over it, in a way to prevent evaporation as 
much as possible, and at the same time to offer some resistance 
to the fiuid’s being washed from its shallow receptacle by the 
motion of the wreck, which was sensibly increasing with the 
increase of the wind and waves. 

Mulford had next an anxious duty to perform. Throughout 


JACK TIER. 


266 


the whole of the preceding day he had seen the air escaping 
from the hull, in an incessant succession of small hubbies, 
which were formidable through their numbers, if not through 
their size. The mate was aware that this unceasing loss of the 
buoyant property of the wreck must eventually lead to their 
destruction, should no assistance come, and he had marked the 
floating line, on the bottom of the vessel with his knife, ere 
darkness set in, on the previous evening. No sooner did his 
thoughts recur to this fact, after the excitement of the first 
hour of daylight was over, than he stepped to the difterent 
places thus marked, and saw, with an alarm that it would be 
difficult to describe, that the wreck had actually sunk into the 
water several inches within the last few hours. This was, in¬ 
deed, menacing their security in a most serious manner, setting 
a limit to their existence, which rendered all precaution on the 
subject of food and water useless. By the calculations of the 
mate, the wreck could not float more than eight-and-forty hours, 
should it continue to lose the air at the rate at which it had 
been hitherto lost. Bad as all this appeared, things were fated 
to become much more serious. The motion of the water quite 
sensibly increased, lifting the wreck at times in a way greatly 
to increase the danger of their situation. The reader will 
understand this movement did not proceed from the waves of 
the existing wind, but from what is technically called a ground- 
swell, or the long, heavy undulations that are left by the tempest 
that is past, or by some distant gale. The waves of the present 
breeze were not very formidable, the reef making a lee; though 
they might possibly become inconvenient from breaking on the 
weather side of the wreck, as soon as the drift carried the latter 
fairly abreast of the passage already mentioned. But the 
dangers that proceeded from the heavy ground-swell, which 
now began to give a considerable motion to the wreck, will 
best explain itself by narrating the incidents as they occurred. 

Harry had left his marks, and had taken his seat on the keel 
at Rose’s side, impatiently waiting for any turn that Providence 

12 


266 


JACK TIER, 


might next give to their situation, when a heavy roll of the 
wreck first attracted his attention to this new circumstance. 

“ If any one is thirsty,” he observed quietly, “ he or she had 
better drink now, while it may be done. Two or three more 
such rolls as this last will wash all the water from our gutters.” 

“ Wather is a blessed thing,” said Biddy, with a longing ex¬ 
pression of the eyes, “ and it would be betther to swallow it 
than to let it be lost.” 

“ Then drink, for Heaven’s sake, good woman—it may be 
the last occasion that will offer.” 

“ Sure am I that I would not touch a dhrap, while the Mis¬ 
sus and Miss Rosy was a-sufferin’.” 

“ I have no thirst at all,” answered Rose, sweetly, “ and have 
already taken more water than was good for me, with so little 
food on my stomach.” 

“ Eat another morsel of the bread, beloved,” whispered Harry, 
in a manner so urgent that Rose gratefully complied. “Drink, 
Biddy, and we will come and share with you before the water 
is wasted by this increasing motion.” 

Biddy did as desired, and each knelt in turn and took a 
little of the grateful fluid, leaving about a gill in the gutters for 
the use of those whose lips might again become parched. 

“ Wather is a blessed thing,” repeated Biddy, for the twen¬ 
tieth time—“ a'blessed, blessed thing is wather!” 

A little scream from Mrs. Budd, which was dutifully taken 
up by the maid, interrupted the speech of the latter, and every 
eye was turned on Mulford, as if to ask an explanation of 
the groaning sound that had been heard within the wreck. The 
young mate comprehended only too well. The rolling of the 
wreck had lifted a portion of the open hatchway above the un¬ 
dulating surface of the sea, and a large quantity of the pent air 
within the hold had escaped in a body. The entrance of water 
to supply the vacuum had produced the groan. Mulford had 
made new marks on the vessel’s bottom with his knife, and he 
stepped down to them, anxious and nearly heart-broken, to 


JACK TIER. 


2C7 


note the effect. That one surging of the wreck had permitted 
air enough to escape to lower it in the water several inches. 
As yet, however, the visible limits of their floating foundation 
had not been sufficiently reduced to attract the attention of the 
females; and the young man said nothing on the subject. He 
thought that Jack Tier was sensible of the existence of this new 
source of danger, but if he were, that experienced mariner 
imitated his own reserve, and made no allusion to it. Thus 
passed the day. Occasionally the wreck rolled heavily, when 
more air escaped, the hull settling lower and lower in the water 
as a necessary consequence. The little bubbles continued inces¬ 
santly to rise, and Mulford became satisfied that another day 
must decide their fate. Taking this view of their situation, he 
saw no use in reserving their food, but encouraged his com¬ 
panions to share the whole of wdiat remained at sunset. Little 
persuasion was necessary, and when night once more came to 
envelop them in darkness, not a mouthful of food or a drop of 
water remained to meet the necessities of the coming morn. It 
had rained again for a short time, in the course of the afternoon, 
when enough water had been caught to allay their thirst, and 
what was almost of as much importance to the females now, a 
sufficiency of sun had succeeded to dry their clothes, thus en¬ 
abling them to sleep without enduring the chilliug damps that 
might otherwise have prevented it. The wind had sensibly 
fallen, and the ground-swell was altogether gone, but Mulford 
w'as certain that the relief had come too late. So much air 
had escaped while it lasted as scarce to leave him the hope that 
the wreck could float until morning. The rising of the bub¬ 
bles was now incessant, the crevices by which they escaped 
having most probably opened a little, in consequence of the 
pressure and the unceasing action of the currents, small as the 
latter were. 

Just as darkness was shutting in around them for the second 
time. Rose remarked to Mulford that it seemed to her that they 
had not as large a space for their little world as when they were 


268 


JACK TIER. 


first placed on it. The mate, however, successfully avoided an 
explanation; and when the watch was again set for the night, 
the females lay down to seek their repose, more troubled with 
apprehensions for a morrow of hunger and thirst, than by any 
just fears that might so well have arisen from the physical 
certainty that the body which alone kept them from being 
engulfed in the sea, could float but a few hours longer. This 
night Tier kept the look-out until Jupiter reached the zenith, 
when Mulford was called to hold the watch until light re¬ 
turned. 

It may seem singular that any could sleep at all in such a 
situation. But we get accustomed, in an incredibly short time, 
to the most violent changes; and calamities that seem insup¬ 
portable, when looked at from a distance, lose half their powder 
if met and resisted with fortitude. The last may, indeed, be 
too insignificant a word to be applied to aM of the party on the 
wreck, on the occasion of which we are writing, though no 
one of them all betrayed fears that were troublesome. Of 
Mulford it is unnecessary to speak. His deportment had been 
quiet, thoughtful, and full of a manly interest in the comfort 
of others, from the first moment of the calamity. That Rose 
should share the largest in his attentions was natural enough, 
but he neglected no essential duty to her companions. Rose, 
herself, had little hope of being rescued. Her naturally cou¬ 
rageous character, however, prevented any undue exhibitions 
of despair, and now it was that the niece became the principal 
support of the aunt, completely changing the relations that 
had formerly existed between them. Mrs. Budd had lost all 
the little buoyancy of her mind. Not a syllable did she now 
utter concerning ships and their manoeuvres. She had been, 
at first, a little disposed to be querulous and despairing, but the 
soothing and pious conversation of Rose awakened a certain 
degree of resolution in her, and habit soon exercised its influ¬ 
ence over even her inactive mind. Biddy was a strange 
mixture of courage, despair, humility, and consideration for 


JACK TIER. 


269 


others. Not once had she taken her small allowance of food 
without first offering it, and that, too, in perfect good faith, to 
her “ Missus and Miss Rosyyet her meanings for this sort 
of support, and her complaints of bodily suffering, much ex¬ 
ceeded that of all the rest of the party put together. As for 
Jack Tier, his conduct singularly belied his appearance. No 
one would have expected any great show of manly resolution 
from the little rotund, lymphatic figure of Tier; but he had 
manifested a calmness that denoted either great natural cour¬ 
age, or a resolution derived from familiarity with danger. In 
this particular, even Mulford regarded his deportment with 
surprise, not unmingled with respect. 

“You have had a tranquil watch. Jack,” said Harry, when 
he was called by the person named, and had fairly aroused 
himself from his slumbers. “ Has the wind stood as it is, 
since sunset?” 

“No change whatever, sir. It has blowed a good working 
breeze the whole watch, and what is surprising, not as much 
lipper has got up as would frighten a colt on a sea-beach.” 

“ We must be near the reef, by that. I think the only cur¬ 
rents we feel come from the tide, and they seem to be setting 
us back and forth, instead of carrying us in any one settled 
direction.” 

“ Quite likely, sir; and this makes my opinion of what I 
saw an hour since all the more probable.” 

“ What you saw ! In the name of a merciful Providence, 
Tier, do not trifle with me! Has any thing been seen near 
by?” 

“ Don’t talk to me of your liquors and other dhrinks,” mur¬ 
mured Biddy in her sleep. “ It’s wather that is a blessed 
thing ; and I wish I lived, the night and the day, by the swate 
pump that’s in our own yard, I do.” 

' “ The woman has been talking in her sleep, in this fashion, 
most of the watch,” observed Jack, coolly, and perhaps a little 
contemptuously. “But, Mr. Mulford, unless my eyes have 


270 


JACK TIER. 


cheated me, we are near that boat again. The passage through 
the reef is close aboard here, on our larboard bow, as it might 
be, and the current has sucked us in it in a fashion to bring it 
in a sort of athwart-hawse direction to us.” 

“ If that boat, after all, should be sent by Providence to our 
relief! How long is it since you saw it. Jack ?” 

“ But a bit since, sir; or, for that matter, I think I see it 
now. Look hereaway, sir, just where the dead-eyes of the 
fore-rigging would bear from us, if the craft stood upon her 
legs, as she ought to do. If that isn’t a boat, it’s a rock out 
of water.” 

Mulford gazed through the gloom of midnight, and saw, or 
fancied he saw, an object that might really be the boat. It 
could not be very distant, either; and his mind was instantly 
made up as to the course he would pursue. Should it actually 
turn out to be that which he now so much hoped for, and its 
distance in the morning did not prove too great for human 
powers, he was resolved to swim for it at the hazard of his life. 
In the mean time, or until light should return, there remained 
nothing to do but to exercise as much patience as could be 
summoned, and to confide in God, soliciting his powerful suc¬ 
cor by secret prayer. 

Mulford was no sooner left alone, as it might be, by Tier’s 
seeking a place in which to take his rest, than he again ex¬ 
amined the state of the wreck. Little as he had hoped from 
its long-continued buoyancy, he found matters even worse than 
he apprehended they would be. The hull had lost much air, 
and had consequently sunk in the water in an exact proportion 
to this loss. The space that was actually above the water 
was reduced to an area not more than six or seven feet in one 
direction, by some ten or twelve in the other. This was 
reducing its extent, since the evening previous, by fully one 
half; and there could be no doubt that the air was escaping, 
in consequence of the additional pressure, in a ratio that in¬ 
creased by a sort of arithmetical progression. The young 


JACK TIER. 


271 


man knew that the whole wreck, under its peculiar circum¬ 
stances, might sink entirely beneath the surface, and yet 
possess sufficient buoyancy to sustain those who were on it for 
a time longer, but this involved the terrible necessity of leav¬ 
ing the females partly submerged themselves. 

Our mate heard his own heart beat as he became satisfied of 
the actual condition of the wreck, and of the physical certainty 
that existed of its sinking, at least to the point last mentioned, 
ere the sun came to throw his glories over the last view that 
the sufferers would be permitted to take of the face of day. It 
appeared to him that no time was to be lost. There lay the 
dim and shapeless object that seemed to be the boat, distant, as 
he thought, about a mile. It would not have been visible at 
all but for the perfect smoothness of the sea, and the low posi¬ 
tion occupied by the observer. At times it did disappear alto¬ 
gether, when it would rise again, as if undulating in the ground- 
swell. This last circumstance, more than any other, persuaded 
Harry that it was not a rock, but some floating object that he 
beheld. Thus encouraged, he delayed no longer. Every mo¬ 
ment was precious, and all might be lost by indecision. He did 
not like the appearance of deserting his companions, but, should 
he fail, the motive would appear in the act. Should he fail, 
every one would alike soon be beyond the reach of censure, and 
in a state of being that would do full justice to all. 

Harry threw off most of his clothes, reserving only his shirt 
and a pair of light summer trowsers. He could not quit the 
wreck, however, without taking a sort of leave of Rose. On 
no account would he awake her, for he appreciated the agony 
she would feel during the period of his struggles. Kneeling at 
her side, he made a short prayer, then pressed his lips to her 
warm cheek, and left her. Rose murmured his name at that 
instant, but it was as the innocent and young betray their se¬ 
crets in their slumbers. Neither of the party awoke. 

It was a moment to prove the heart of man, that in which 
Harry Mulford, in the darkness of midnight, alone, unsustained 


272 


JACK TIER. 


by any encouraging eye, or approving voice, with no other aid 
than his own stout arm, and the unknown designs of a myste¬ 
rious Providence, committed his form to the sea. For an instant 
he paused, after he had waded down on the wreck to a spot 
where the water already mounted to his breast, but it was not 
in misgivings. He calculated the chances, and made an intelli¬ 
gent use of such assistance as could be had. There had been 
no sharks near the wreck that day, but a splash in the water 
might bring them back again in a crowd. They were probably 
prowling over the reef, near at hand. The mate used great 
care, therefore, to make no noise. There was the distant object, 
and he set it by a bright star, that wanted about an hour before 
it would sink beneath the horizon. That star was his beacon, 
and muttering a few words in earnest prayer, the young man 
threw his body forward, and left the wreck, swimming lightly, 
but with vigor. 


JACK TIER. 


273 


CHAPTER IX. 


“The night has been unruly: where we lay, 

Our chimneys were blown down: and, as they say, 
Lamentings heard i’ the air; strange screams of death; 
And prophesying, with accents terrible, 

Of dire combustion, and confused events, 

Now hatch’d to the woeful time.” 

Macbeth. 


It is seldom that man is required to make an exertion as des¬ 
perate and appalling, in all its circumstances, as that on which 
Harry Mulford was now bent. The night was starlight, it was 
true, and it was possible to see objects near by with tolerable 
distinctness ; still, it was midnight, and the gloom of that hour 
rested on the face of the sea, lending its solemn mystery and 
obscurity to the other trying features of the undertaking. Then 
there was the uncertainty whether it w'as the boat at all, of 
which he was in pursuit; and, if the boat, it might drift away 
from him as fast as he could follow it. Nevertheless, the per¬ 
fect conviction that, without some early succor, the party on 
the wreck, including Rose Budd, must inevitably perish, stimu¬ 
lated him to proceed, and a passing feeling of doubt, touching 
the prudence of his course, that came over the young mate, 
when he was a few yards from the wreck, vanished under a 
vivid renewal of this last conviction. On he swam, therefore, 
riveting his eye on the “ thoughtful star” that guided his course, 
and keeping his mind as tranquil as possible, in order that the 
exertions of his body might be the easier. 

Mulford was an excellent swimmer. The want of food was 
a serious obstacle to his making one of his best efforts, but, as 
yet, he was not very sensible . of any great loss of strength. 

12 '^ 


274 


JACK TIER. 


Understanding fully tlie necessity of swimming easily, if be 
would swim long, he did not throw out all his energy at first, 
but made the movements of his limbs as regular, continued, 
and skilful as possible. No strength was thrown away, and 
his progress was in proportion to the prudence of this manner 
of proceeding. For some twenty minutes he held on his 
course, in this way, when he began to experience a little of 
that weariness which is apt to accompany an unremitted use of 
the same set of muscles, in a monotonous and undeviating 
mode. Accustomed to all the resources of his art, he turned 
on his back, for the double purpose of relieving his arms for a 
minute, and of getting a glimpse of the wreck, if possible, in 
order to ascertain the distance he had overcome. Swim long 
in this new manner, however, he could not with prudence, as 
the star was necessary in order to keep the direct line of his 
course. It may be well to explain to some of our readers, 
that, though the surface of the ocean may be like glass, as 
sometimes really happens, it is never absolutely free from the 
long, undulating motion that is known by the name of a 
“ ground-swell.” This swell, on the present occasion, was not 
very heavy, but it was sufficient to place our young mate, at 
moments, between two dark mounds of water, that limited his 
view in either direction to some eighty or a hundred yards; 
then it raised him on the summit of a rounded wave, that en¬ 
abled him to see, far as his eye could reach, under that obscure 
light. Profiting by this advantage, Mulford now looked be¬ 
hind him, in quest of the wreck, but uselessly. It might have 
been in the trough, while he was thus on the summit of the 
waves, or it might be that it floated so low as to be totally lost 
to the view of one whose head was scarcely above the surfiice 
of the water. For a single instant, the young man felt a chill 
at his heart, as he fancied that the wreck had already sunk; 
but it passed away when he recalled the slow progi-ess by 
which the air escaped, and he saw the certainty that the catas¬ 
trophe, however inevitable, could not yet have really arrived. 


JACK TIER. 


275 


He waited for another swell to lift him on its summit, when, by 
“ treading water,” he raised his head and shoulders fairly above 
the surface of the sea, and strained his eyes in another vain 
effort to catch a glimpse of the wreck. He could not see it. 
In point of fact, the mate had swum much farther than he 
had supposed, and was already so distant as to render any such 
attempt hopeless. He was fully a third of a mile distant from 
the point of his departure. 

Disappointed, and in a slight degree disheartened, Mulford 
turned, and swam in the direction of the sinking star. He now 
looked anxiously for the boat. It was time that it came more 
plainly into view, and a new source of Anxiety beset him, as he 
could discover no signs of its vicinity. Certain that he was on 
the course, after making a due allowance for the direction of 
the wind, the stout-hearted young man swam on. He next de¬ 
termined not to annoy himself by fruitless searches, or vain 
regrets, but to swim steadily for a certain time, a period long 
enough to carry him a material distance, ere he again looked 
for the object of his search. 

For twenty minutes longer did that courageous and active 
youth struggle with the waste of waters, amid the obscurity 
and solitude of midnight. He now believed himself near a 
mile from the wreck, and the star which had so long served 
him for a beacon was getting near to the horizon. He took a 
new observation of another of the heavenly bodies nigh it, to 
serve him in its stead when it should disappear altogether, and 
then he raised himself in the water, and looked about again for 
the boat. The search was in vain. No boat was very near 
him, of a certainty, and the dreadful apprehension began to 
possess his mind, of perishing uselessly in that waste of gloomy 
waters. While thus gazing about him, turning his eyes in 
every quarter, hoping intently to catch some glimpse of the 
much-desired object in the gloom, he saw two dark, pointed 
objects, that resembled small stakes, in the water, within twenty 
feet of him. Mulford knew them at a glance, and a cold 


276 


JACK TIER. 


shudder passed through his frame, as he recognized them. 
They were, out of all question, the fins of an enormous shark ; 
an animal that could not measure less than eighteen or twenty 
feet in length. 

It is scarcely necessary to say, that when our young mate 
discovered the proximity of this dangerous animal, situated as 
he was, he gave himself up for lost. He possessed his knife, 
however, and had heard of the manner in which even sharks 
were overcome, and that too in their own element, by the 
skilful and resolute. At first, he was resolved to make one 
desperate effort for life, before he submitted to a fate as horri¬ 
ble as that which now menaced him ; but the movements of 
his dangerous neighbor induced him to wait. It did not ap¬ 
proach any nearer, but continued swimming back and fro, on 
the surface of the water, according to the known habits of the 
fish, as if watching his own movements. There being no time 
to be wasted, our young man turned on his face, and began 
again to swim in the direction of the setting star, though 
nearly chilled by despair. For ten minutes longer did he 
struggle on, beginning to feel exhaustion, however, and always 
accompanied by those two dark, sharp, and gliding fins. There 
was no difficulty in knowing the position of the animal, and 
Mulford’s eyes were oftener on those fins than on the beacon 
before him. Strange as it may appear, he actually became ac¬ 
customed to the vicinity of this formidable creature, and soon 
felt his presence a sort of relief against the dreadful solitude 
of his situation. He had been told by seamen of instances, 
and had once witnessed a case himself, in which a shark had 
attended a swimming man for a long distance, either forbear¬ 
ing to do him harm, from repletion, or infiuenced by that awe 
which nature has instilled into all of the inferior, for the high¬ 
est animal of the creation. He began to think that he was 
thus favored, and really regarded the shark as a friendly neigh¬ 
bor, rather than as a voracious foe. In this manner did the 
two proceed nearly another third of a mile, the fins sometimes 


JACK TIER. 


277 


in sight ahead, gliding hither and thither, and sometimes out 
of view behind the swimmer, leaving him in dreadful doubts 
as to the movements of the fish, when Mulford suddenly felt 
something hard hit his foot. Believing it to be the shark, 
dipping for his prey, a slight exclamation escaped him. At 
the next instant both feet hit the unknown substance again, 
and he stood erect, the water no higher than his waist! Quick, 
and comprehending every thing connected with the sea, the 
young man at once understood that he was on a part of the 
reef where the water was so shallow as to admit of his wading. 

Mulford felt that he had been providentially rescued from 
death. Ilis strength had been about to fail him, when he was 
thus led, unknown to himself, to a spot where his life might 
yet be possibly prolonged for a few more hours, or days. He 
had leisure to look about him, and to refiect on what was next 
to be done. Almost unwittingly, he turned in quest of his 
terrible companion, in whose voracious mouth he had actually 
believed himself about to be immolated, a few seconds before. 
There the two horn-like fins still were, gliding about above the 
water, and indicating the smallest movement of their formi¬ 
dable owner. The mate observed that they went a short dis¬ 
tance ahead of him, describing nearly a semicircle, and then 
returned, doing the same thing in his rear, repeating the 
movements incessantly, keeping always on his right. This 
convinced him that shoaler water existed on his left hand, and 
he waded in that direction, until he reached a small spot of 
naked rock. 

For a time, at least, he was safe! The fragment of coral on 
which the mate now stood was irregular in shape, but might 
have contained a hundred feet square in superficial measure¬ 
ment, and was so little raised above the level of the Avater as 
not to be visible even by daylight, at the distance of a hun¬ 
dred yards. Mulford found it Avas perfectly dry, hoAvever, an 
important discovery to him, as by a close calculation he liad 
made of the tides, since quitting the Dry Tortugas, he knew 


278 


JACK TIER. 


it must be near high water. Could he have even this small 
portion of bare rock secure, it made him, for the moment, 
rich as the most extensive landholder living. A considerable 
quantity of sea-weed ha4 lodged on the rock, and, as most of 
this was also quite dry, it convinced the young sailor that the 
place was usually bare. But, though most of this sea-weed 
was dry, there were portions of the more recent accessions 
there that still lay in, or quite near to the water, which form¬ 
ed exceptions. In handling these weeds, in order to ascertain 
the facts, Mulford caught a small shell-fish, and finding it fresh 
and easy to open, he swallowed it with the eagerness of a 
famishing man. Never had food proved half so grateful to 
him as that single swallow of a very palatable testaceous ani¬ 
mal. By feeling further, he found several others of the same 
family, and made quite as large a meal as, under the circum¬ 
stances, was probably good for him. Then, grateful for his 
escape, but overcome by fatigue, he hastily arranged a bed of 
sea-weed, drew a portion of the plant over his body, to keep 
him warm, and fell into a deep sleep that lasted for hours. 

Mulford did not regain his consciousness until the rays of 
the rising sun fell upon his eyelids, and the genial warmth of 
the great luminary shed its benign influence over his frame. 
At first his mind was confused, and it required a few seconds 
to bring a perfect recollection of the past, and a true under¬ 
standing of his real situation. They came, however, and the 
young man moved to the highest part of his little domain, and 
cast an anxious, hurried look around in quest of the wreck. A 
knowledge of the course in which he had swum, aided by the 
position of the sun, told him on what part of the naked waste 
to look for the object he sought. God had not yet forsaken 
them ! There was the wreck; or, it might be more exact to 
say, there were those whom the remaining buoyancy of the 
wreck still upheld from sinking into the depths of the Gulf. In 
point of fiict, but a very little of the bottom of the vessel actu¬ 
ally remained above water, some two or three yards square at 


JACK TIER. 


279 


most, and that little was what seamen term nearly awash. 
Two or three hours must bury that small portion of the still 
naked wood beneath the surface of the sea, though sufficient 
buoyancy might possibly remain for the entire day still to keep 
the living from death. 

There the wreck was, however, yet floating; and, though not 
visible to Mulford, Avith a small portion of it above water. He 
saAV the four persons only; and AAdiat was more, they saAv him. 
This Avas evident by Jack Tier’s Avaving his hat like a man 
cheering. When Mulford returned this signal, the shaAvl of 
Rose Avas tossed into the air, in a Avay to leave no doubt that 
he Avas seen and knoAvn. The explanation of this early recog¬ 
nition and discovery of the young mate Avas very simple. 
Tier was not asleep Avhen Harry left the wreck, though, seeing 
the importance of the step the other was taking, he had feigned 
to be so. When Rose aAvoke, missed her lover, and Avas told 
Avhat had happened, her heart Avas kept from sinking by liis 
encouraging tale and hopes. An hour of agony had succeed¬ 
ed, nevertheless, Avhen light returned and no Mulford Avas to 
be seen. The despair that burst upon the heart of our heroine 
Avas followed by the joy of discoA^ering him on the lock. 

It is scarcely necessary to say Iioav much the parties Avere 
relieved on ascertaining their respective positions. Faint as 
Avere the hopes of each of eventual delivery, the two or three 
minutes that succeeded seemed to be minutes of perfect happi¬ 
ness. After this rush of unlooked-for joy, Mulford continued 
his intelligent examination of surrounding objects. 

The Avreck Avas fully half a mile from the rock of the mate, 
but much nearer to the reef than it had been the previous 
night. “Could it but ground on the rocks,” thought the young 
man, “ it Avould be a most blessed event.” The thing Avas pos¬ 
sible, though the first half hour of his observations told him 
that its drift Avas in the direction of the open passage so often 
named, rather than toAvards the nearest rocks. Still, that drift 
brought Rose each minute nearer and nearer to himself again. 


280 


JACK TIER. 


In looking round, however, the young man saw the boat. It 
was a quarter of a mile distant, with open water between them, 
apparently grounded on a rock, for it was more within the reef 
than he was himself. lie must have passed it in the dark, and 
the boat had been left to obey the wind and currents, and to 
drift to the spot where it then lay. 

Mulford shouted aloud when he saw the boat, and at once 
determined to swim in quest of it, as soon as he had collected 
a little refreshment from among the sea-weed. On taking a 
look at his rock by daylight, he saw that its size was quadrupled 
to the eye by the falling of the tide, and that water was lying- 
in several of the cavities of its uneven surface. At first he 
supposed this to be sea-water, left by the flood; but, reflecting 
a moment, he remembered the rain, and hoped it might be 
possible that one little cavity, containing two or three gallons 
of the fluid, would turn out to be fresh. Kneeling beside it, 
he applied his lips in feverish haste, and drank the sweetest 
draught that had ever passed his lips. Slaking his thirst, which 
had begun again to be painfully severe, he arose with a heart 
overflowing with gratitude—could he only get Rose to that 
narrow and barren rock, it Avould seem to be an earthly para¬ 
dise. Mulford next made his scanty, but, all things considered, 
sufficient meal, drank moderately afterwards, and then turned 
his attention and energies towards the boat, which, though 
now aground and fast, might soon float on the rising tide, and 
drift once more beyond his reach. It was his first intention to 
sAvim directly for his object; but, just Avhen about to enter the 
Avater, he saAV Avith horror the fins of at least a dozen sharks, 
Avhich Avere proAvling about in the deeper Avater of the reef, 
and almost encircling his hold. To throAv himself in the midst 
of such enemies Avould be madness, and he stopped to reflect, 
and again to look about him. For the first time that morning, 
he took a survey of the entire horizon, to see if any thing 
Avere in sight; for, hitherto, his thoughts had been too much 
occupied Avith Rose and her companions to remember any 


JACK TIER. 


281 


thing else. To the northward and westward he distinctly saw 
the upper sails of a large ship, that was standing on a wind to 
the northward and eastward. As there was no port to which 
a vessel of that character would be likely to be bound in the 
quarter of the Gulf to which such a course would lead, Mulford 
at once inferred it was the sloop-of-war, which, after having 
examined the islets, at the Dry Tortugas, and finding them 
deserted, was beating up either to go into Key West, or to 
pass to the southward of the reef again, by the passage through 
which she had come as lately as the previous day. This was 
highly encouraging; and could he only get to the boat, and 
remove the party from the wreck before it sunk, there was 
now every prospect of a final escape. 

To the southward, also, the mate fancied he saw a sail. It 
was probably a much smaller vessel than the ship in the north¬ 
west, and at a greater distance. It might, however, be the 
lofty sails of some large craft, standing along the reef, going 
westward, bound to New Orleans, or to that new and important 
port. Point Isabel; or it might he some wrecker, or other craft, 
edging away into the passage. As it was, it appeared only 
as a speck in the horizon, and was too far off* to offer much 
prospect of succor. 

Thus acquainted with the state of things around him, Mul¬ 
ford gave his attention seriously to his duties. He was chiefly 
afraid that the returning tide might lift the boat from the rock 
on which it had grounded, and that it would float beyond his 
reach. Then there was the frightful and ever-increasing peril 
of the wreck, and the dreadful fate that so inevitably menaced 
those that it held, were not relief prompt. This thought 
goaded him nearly to desperation, and he felt at moments 
almost ready to plunge into the midst of the sharks, and fight 
his way to his object. 

But reflection showed him a less hazardous way of making 
an effort to reach the boat. The sharks’ fins described a semi¬ 
circle only, as had been the case of his single attendant during 


282 


JACK TIER. 


the night, and he thought that the slioalness of the water 
prevented their going further than they did in a southeasterly 
direction, which was that of the boat. He well knew that a 
shark required sufficient water to sink beneath its prey, ere it 
made its swoop, and that it uniformly turned on its back, and 
struck upward whenever it gave one of its voracious bites. 
This was owing to the greater length of its upper than of its 
lower jaw, and Mulford had heard it was a physical necessity 
of its formation. Right or wrong, he determined to act on 
this theory, and began at once to Avade along the part of the 
reef that his enemies seemed unwilling to approach. 

Had our young mate a weapon of any sort larger than his 
knife, he would have felt greater confidence in his success. 
As it Avas, hoAvever, he dreAV that knife, and Avas prepared to 
sell his life dearly should a foe assail him. No sooner Avas his 
step heard in the water, than the Avhole group of sharks Avere 
set in violent motion, glancing past, and frequently quite near 
him, as if aware their intended prey Avas about to escape. 
Had the water deepened much, Harry Avould have returned at 
once, for a conflict Avith such numbers Avould have been hope¬ 
less ; but it did not; on the contrary, it shoaled again, after a 
A^ery short distance, at Avhich it had been Avaist-deep; and 
Mulford found himself Avading over a long, broad surface of 
rock, and that directly toAvards the boat, through Avater that 
seldom rose above his knees, and Avhich occasionally scarce 
covered his feet. There Avas no absolutely naked rock near 
him, but there seemed to be acres of that AAdiich might be al¬ 
most said to be aAvash. Amid the greedy throng that en¬ 
deavored to accompany him, the mate even fancied he recog¬ 
nized the enormous fins of his old companion, avIio sailed to 
and fro in the croAvd in a stately manner, as if merely a curious 
looker-on of his own movements. It Avas the smaller, and 
probably the younger sharks, that betrayed the greatest hardi¬ 
hood and A-oracity. One or tAvo of these made fierce SAvoops 
towards Harry, as if bent on having him at every hazard; but 


JACK TIER. 


283 


they invariably glided off when they found their customary 
mode of attack resisted by the shoalness of the water. 

Our young mate got ahead but slowly, being obliged to pay 
a cautious attention to the movements of his escort. Some¬ 
times he was compelled to wade up to his arms in order to 
cross narrow places, that he might get on portions of the rock 
that were nearly bare; and once he was actually compelled to 
swim eight or ten yards. Nevertheless, he did get on, and 
after an hour of this sort of work, he found himself within a 
hundred yards of the boat, which lay grounded near a low 
piece of naked rock, but separated from it by a channel of 
deep water, into which all the sharks rushed in a body, as 
if expressly to cut oflF his escape. Mulford now paused to take 
breath, and to consider what ought to be done. On the spot 
where he stood he was quite safe ; though ankle-deep in the 
sea, the shallow water extending to a considerable distance on 
all sides of him, with the single exception of the channel in 
his front. He stood on the very verge of that channel, and 
could see, in the pellucid element before him, that it was deep 
enough to float a vessel of some size. 

To venture into the midst of twenty sharks required despe¬ 
ration, and Harry was not yet reduced to that. He had been 
so busy in making his way to the point where he stood, as to 
have no leisure to look for the wreck; but he now turned his 
eyes in quest of that all-interesting object. He saw the shawl 
fluttering in the breeze, and that was all he could see. Tier 
had contrived to keep it flying as a signal where he was to be 
found, but the hull of the schooner had sunk so low in the 
water, that they who were seated on its keel were not visible, 
even at the short distance which now separated them from Mul- 
. ford. Encouraged by this signal, and animated by the revived 
hope of still saving his companions, Harry turned towards the 
channel, half inclined to face every danger rather than to wait 
any longer. At that moment the flns were all gliding along 
the channel from him, and in the same direction. Some object 


284 


JACK TIER. 


drew the sharks away in a body, and the young mate let him¬ 
self easily into the water, and swam as noiselessly as he could 
towards the boat. 

It was a fearful trial, but Mulford felt that every thing de¬ 
pended on his success. Stimulated by his motive, and strength¬ 
ened by the food and water taken an hour before, never had 
he shown so much skill and power in the water. In an in¬ 
credibly short period he was half way across the channel, still 
swimming strong and unharmed. A few strokes more sent 
him so near the boat that hope took full possession of his soul, 
and he shouted in exultation. That indiscreet but natural cry, 
uttered so near the surface of the sea, turned every shark upon 
him, as the pack springs at the fox in view. Mulford was 
conscious of the folly of his cry the instant it escaped him, 
and involuntarily he turned his head to note the effect on his 
enemies. Every fin was gliding towards him—a dark array of 
swift and furious foes. Ten thousand bayonets, levelled in 
their line, could not have been one half as terrible, and the 
efforts of the young man became nearly frantic. But strong 
as he was, and ready in the element, what is the movement 
of a man in the water compared to that of a vigorous and 
voracious fish ? Mulford could see those fins coming on like a 
tempest, and he had just given up all hope, and was feeling his 
flesh creep with terror, when his foot hit the rock. Giving 
himself an onward plunge, he threw his body upward towards 
the boa!;, and into so much shoaler water, at least a dozen feet 
by that single effort. Recovering his legs as soon as possible, 
he turned to look behind him. The water seemed alive with 
fins, each pair gliding back and forth, as the bull-dog bounds 
in front of the ox’s muzzle. Just then a light-colored object 
glanced past the young man, so near as almost to touch him. 
It was a shark that had actually turned on its back to seize its 
prey, and was only prevented from succeeding by being driven 
from the line of its course by hitting the slimy rock, over 
which it was compelled to make its plunge. The momentum 


JACK TIER. 


285 


with which it came on, added to the inclination of the rock, 
forced the head and half of the body of this terrible assailant 
into the air, giving the intended victim an opportunity of see¬ 
ing from what a fate he had escaped. Mulford avoided the 
fish without much trouble, however, and the next instant he 
threw himself into the boat, on the bottom of which he lay 
panting with the violence of his exertions, and unable to move 
under the reaction which now came over his system. 

The mate lay in the bottom of the boat, exhausted and una¬ 
ble to rise, for several minutes; during that space he devoutly 
returned thanks to God for his escape, and bethought him of 
the course he was next to pursue, in order to effect the rescue 
of his companions. The boat was larger than common. It 
was also well equipped—a mast and sail lying along with the 
oars, on its thwarts. The rock placed Harry to windward of 
the wreck, and by the time he felt sufficiently revived to rise 
and look about him, his plan of proceeding was fully arranged 
in his own mind. Among other things that he saw, as he still 
lay in the bottom of the boat, was a breaker which he knew 
contained fresh water, and a bread-bag. These were provi¬ 
sions that it was customary for the men to make, when em¬ 
ployed on boat duty; and the articles had been left where he 
now saw them, in the hurry of the movements, as the brig 
quitted the islets. 

Harry rose the instant he felt his strength returning. Strik¬ 
ing the breaker with his foot, and feeling the basket with a 
hand, he ascertained that the one held its water, and the other 
its bread. This was immense relief, for by this time the suf¬ 
ferings of the party on the wreck must be returning with 
redoubled force. The mate then stepped the mast, and fitted 
the sprit to the sail, knowing that the latter would be seen 
fluttering in the wind by those on the wreck, and carry joy to 
their hearts. After this considerate act, he began to examine 
into the position of the boat. It was still aground, having 
been left by the tide; but the water had already risen several 


286 


JACK TIER. 


inches, and by placing himself on the gunwale, so as to bring 
the boat on its bilge, and pushing with an oar, he soon got 
into deep water. It only remained to haul aft the sheet, and 
right the helm, to be standing through the channel, at a rate 
that promised a speedy deliverance to his friends, and most 
of all, to Rose. 

Mulford glanced past the rocks and shoals, attended by 
the whole company of the sharks. They moved before, be¬ 
hind, and on each side of him, as if unwilling to abandon their 
prey, even after he had got beyond the limits of their power 
to do him harm. It was not an easy thing to manage the 
boat in that narrow and crooked channel, with no other guide 
for the courses than the eye, and it required so much of the 
mate’s vigilance to keep clear of the sharp angles of the rocks, 
that he could not once cast his eyes aside, to look for the flut¬ 
tering shawl, which now composed the standing signal of the 
wreck. At length the boat shot through the last passage of 
the reef, and issued into open water. Mulford knew that he 
must come out half a mile at least to leeward of his object, 
and without even raising his head, he flattened in the sheet, 
put his helm down, and luffed close to the wind. Then, and 
then only, did he venture to look around him. 

Our mate felt his heart leap towards his mouth, as he ob¬ 
served the present state of the wreck. It was dead to wind¬ 
ward of him, in the first place, and it seemed to be entirely 
submerged. He saw the shawl fluttering as before; for Tier 
had fastened one corner to a button-hole of his own jacket, 
and another to the dress of Biddy, leaving the part which 
might be called the fly, to rise at moments almost perpendicu¬ 
larly in the air, in a way to render it visible at some distance. 
He saw also the heads and the bodies of those on the schooner’s 
bottom, but to him they appeared to be standing in, or on, the 
water. The distance may have contributed a little to this 
appearance, but no doubt remained that so much air had es¬ 
caped from the hold of the vessel, as to permit it to sink 


JACK TIER. 


287 


altogether beneath the surface of the sea. It was time, in¬ 
deed, to proceed to the relief of the sufferers. 

Notwithstanding the boat sailed particularly fast, and worked 
beautifully, it could not equal the impatience of Mulford to 
get on. Passing away to the northeast a sufficient distance, 
as he thought, to weather on the wreck, the young man tacked 
at last, and had the happiness to seo that every foot he pro¬ 
ceeded was now in a direct line towards Rose. It was only 
while tacking he perceived that all the fins had disappeared. 
He felt little doubt that they had deserted him, in order to 
push for the wreck, which offered so much larger, and so 
much more attainable prey. This increased his feverish desire 
to get on, the boat seeming to drag, in his eyes, at the very 
moment it was leaving a wake full of eddies and little whirl¬ 
pools. The wind was steady, but it seemed to Mulford that 
the boat was set to leeward of her course by a current, though 
this could hardly have been the case, as the wreck, the sole 
mark of his progress, would have had at least as great a drift 
as the boat. At length Mulford—to him it appeared to be an 
age; in truth, it was after a run of about twenty minutes— 
came near the goal he so earnestly sought, and got an accu¬ 
rate view of the state of the wreck, and of those on it. The 
hull of the schooner had, in truth, sunk entirely beneath the 
surface of the sea; and the party it sustained stood already 
knee-deep in the water. This was sufficiently appalling; but 
the presence of the sharks, who were crowding around the 
spot, rendered the whole scene frightful. To the young mate 
it seemed as if he must still be too late to save Rose from a 
fate more terrible than drowning, for the boat fell so far to 
leeward as to compel him to tack once more. As he swept 
past the wreck, he called out to encourage his friends, begging 
them to be of good heart for five minutes longer, when he 
should be able to reach them. Rose held out her arms entreat- 
ingly, and the screams of Mrs. Budd and Biddy, which were 
extorted by the closer and closer approach of the sharks, pro- 


288 


JACK TIER. 


claimed the imminency of the danger they ran, and the impor¬ 
tance of not losing a moment of time. 

Mulford took his distance with a seaman’s eye, and the boat 
went about like a top. The latter fell of, and the sail filled on 
the other tack. Then the young mariner saw, with a joy no 
description can portray, that he looked to windward of the 
fluttering shawl, towards which his little craft was already 
flying. He afterwards believed that shawl alone prevented the 
voracious party of fish from assailing those on the wreck, for, 
though there might not yet be sufficient depth of water to 
allow of their customary mode of attack, creatures of their 
voracity did not always wait for such conveniences. But the 
boat was soon in the midst of the fins, scattering them in all 
directions; and Mulford let go the sheet, put his helm down, 
and sprang forwai’d to catch the extended arms of Rose. 

It might have been accident, or it might have been the 
result of skill and interest in our heroine, but certain it is, that 
the bows of the boat came on the wreck precisely at the place 
where Rose stood, and her hand was the first object that the 
young man touched. 

“ Take my aunt first,” cried Rose, resisting Mulford’s efforts 
to lift her into the boat; “ she is dreadfully alarmed, and can 
stand with difficulty.” 

Although two of Rose’s activity and lightness might have 
been drawn into the boat, while the process was going on in 
behalf of the widow, Mulford lost no time in ' discussion, but 
did as he was desired. First directing Tier to hold on to the 
painter, he applied his strength to the arms of Mrs. Budd, and, 
assisted by Rose and Biddy, got her safely into the boat, over 
its bows. Rose now waited not for assistance, but followed 
her aunt with a haste that proved fear lent her strength in 
despite her long fast. Biddy came next, though clumsily, and 
not without trouble, and Jack Tier followed the instant he 
was permitted so to do. Of course, the boat, no longer held 
by its painter, drifted away from the spot, and the hull of the 


JACK TIER. 


289 


schooner, relieved from the weight of four human beings, rose 
so near the surface again as to bring a small line of its keel 
out of water. No better evidence could have been given of 
the trifling power which sustained it, and of the timely nature 
of the succor brought by Mulford. Had the boat remained 
near the schooner, it would have been found half an hour 
later that the hull had sunk slowly out of sight, finding 
its way, doubtless, inch by inch, towards the bottom of the 
Gulf. 

By this time the sun was well up, and the warmth of the 
hour, season, and latitude, was shed on the sufferers. There 
was an old sail in the boat, and in this the party dried their 
limbs and feet, which were getting to be numb by their long 
immersion. Then the mate produced the bag and opened it, 
in quest of bread. A small portion was given to each, and, 
on looking farther, the mate discovered that a piece of boiled 
ship’s beef had been secreted in this receptacle. Of this also 
he gave each a moderate slice, taking a larger portion for him¬ 
self, as requiring less precaution. The suffering of the party 
from hunger was far less than that they endured from thirst. 
Neither had been endured long enough seriously to enfeeble 
them or render a full meal very dangerous, but the thirst had 
been much the hardest to be borne. Of this fact Biddy soon 
gave audible evidence. 

“ The mate is good,” she said, “ and the bread tastes swate 
and refreshing, but wather is a blessed thing. Can you no 
give us one dhrap of the water that falls from heaven, Mr. 
Mulford; for this wather of the saa is of no use but to drown 
Christians in ?” 

In an instant the mate had opened a breaker, and filled the 
tin pot which is almost always to be found in a boat. Biddy 
said no more, but her eyes pleaded so eloquently, that Rose 
begged the faithful creature might have the first drink. One 
eager swallow went down, and then a cry of disappointment 
succeeded. The water was salt, and had been put in the 

13 


290 


JACK TIER. 


breaker for ballast. The other breaker was tried with the 
same success. 

“ It is terrible to be without one drop of water,” murmured 
Rose, “ and this food makes it more necessary than ever.” 

“ Patience, patience, dearest Rose—patience for ten minutes, 
and you shall all drink,” answered the mate, filling the sail 
and keeping the boat away while speaking. “ There’s water, 
God be praised, on the rock to which I first swam, and we will 
secure it before another day’s sun, help to make it evaporate.” 

This announcement quieted the longings of those who en¬ 
dured a thirst which disappointment rendered doubly hard to 
bear; and ^way the boat glided towards the rock. As he now 
flew over the distance, lessened more than one-half by the drift 
of the wreck, Mulford recalled the scene through which he had 
so painfully passed the previous night. As often happens, he 
shuddered at the recollection of things which, at the moment, 
a desperate resolution had enabled him to encounter with firm¬ 
ness. Still, he thought nothing less than the ardent desire to 
save Rose could have carried him through the trial with the 
success which attended his struggles. The dear being at his side 
asked a few explanations of what had passed; and she bowed 
her head and wept, equally with pain and delight, as imagina¬ 
tion pictured to her the situation of her betrothed, amid that 
waste of water, with his fearful companions, and all in the hours 
of deep night. 

But that was over now. There was the rock—the blessed 
rock on which Mulford had so accidentally struck, close before 
them—and presently they were all on it. The mate took the 
pot and ran to the little reservoir, returning with a sweet draught 
for each of the party. 

“ A blessed, blessed thing, is wather!” exclaimed Biddy, this 
time finding the relief she sought, “ and a thousand blessings 
on yow, Mr. Mulford, who have niver done us any thing but 
good.” 

Rose looked a still higher eulogy on the young man, and 


JACK TIER. 


291 


even Mrs. Budd had something commendatory and grateful to 
say. Jack Tier was silent, but he had all his eyes about him, 
as he now proved. 

“We’ve all on us been so much taken up with our own 
affairs,” remarked the steward’s assistant, “that we’ve taken 
but little notice of the neighborhood. If that isn’t the brig, 
Mr. Mulford, running through this very passage, with stun’sails 
set alow and aloft, I don’t know the Molly Swash when I see 
her!” 

“ The brig!” exclaimed the mate, recollecting the vessels he 
had seen at the break of day, for the first time in hours. “ Can 
it be possible that the craft I made out to the southward is the 
brig?” 

“ Look, and judge for yourself, sir. There she comes, like 
a race-horse, and if she holds her present course, she must 
pass somewhere within a mile or so of us, if we stay where we 
are.” 

Mulford did look, as did all with him. There was the Swash, 
sure enough, coming down before the wind, and under a cloud 
of canvas. She might be still a league, or a league and a half 
distant, but, at the rate at which she was travelling, that dis¬ 
tance would soon be past. She was running through the pas¬ 
sage, no doubt with a view to proceed to the Dry Tortugas, to 
look after the schooner. Spike having the hope that he had 
dodged his pursuers on the coast of Cuba. The mate now 
looked for the ship, in the northwestern board, believing, as he 
did, that she was the sloop-of-war. That vessel had gone 
about, and was standing to the southward, on a taut bowline. 
She was still a long way off, three or four leagues at least, but 
the change she had made in her position, since last seen, proved 
that she was a great sailer. Then she was more than hull 
down, whereas, now, she was near enough to let the outline of 
a long, straight fabric be discovered beneath her canvas. 

“ It is hardly possible that Spike should not see the vessel 
here in the northern board,” Mulford observed to Tier, who had 


292 


JACK TIER. 


been examining the ship with him. “ The lookout is usually 
good on board the Swash, and, just now, should certainly be as 
good as common. Spike is no dawdler with serious business 
before him.” 

“He’s a willain !” muttered Jack Tier. 

The mate regarded his companion with some surprise. Jack 
was a very insignificant-looking personage in common, and one 
would scarcely pause to give him a second look, unless it might 
be to laugh at his rotundity and little waddling legs. But, 
now, the mate fancied he was swelling with feelings that actu¬ 
ally imparted somewhat more than usual stature and dignity to 
his appearance. His face was full of indignation, and there 
was something about the eye, that to Mulford was inexplicable. 
As Rose, however, had related to him the scene that took place 
on the islet, at the moment when Spike was departing, the 
mate supposed that Jack still felt a portion of the resentment 
that such a collision would be apt to create. From the expres¬ 
sion of Jack’s countenance at that instant, it struck him Spike 
might not be exactly safe, should accident put it in the power 
of the former to do him an injury. 

It was now necessary to decide on the course that ought to 
be pursued. The bag contained sufficient food to last the party 
several days, and a gallon of water still remained in the cavity 
of the rock. This last was collected and put in one of the 
breakers, which was emptied of the salt water in order to re¬ 
ceive it. As water, however, was the great necessity in that 
latitude, Mulford did not deem it prudent to set sail with so 
small a supply, and he accordingly commenced a search, on 
some of the adjacent rocks. Jack Tier accompanying him. 
They succeeded in doubling their stock of water, and collected 
several shell-fish, that the females found exceedingly grateful 
and refreshing. On the score of hunger and thirst, indeed, no 
one was now suffering. By judiciously sipping a little water 
at a time, and retaining it in the mouth before swallowing, the 
latter painful feeling had been gotten rid of; and as for food, 


JACK TIER. 


293 


there was even more than was actually needed, and that of a 
very good quality. It is probable that standing in the water 
for hours, as Rose, and her aunt, and Biddy had been obliged 
to do, had contributed to lessen the pain endured from thirst, 
though they had all suffered a good deal from that cause, espe¬ 
cially while the sun shone. 

Mulford and Tier were half an hour in obtaining the water. 
By the end of that period the brigantine was so near as to 
render her hull distinctly visible. It was high time to decide 
on their future course. The sail had been brailed when the 
boat reached the rock, and the boat itself lay on the side of 
the latter opposite to the brig, and where no part of it could 
be seen to those on board the Swash, with the exception of the 
mast. Under the circumstances, therefore, Mulford thought it 
wisest to remain where they were, and let the vessel pass, be¬ 
fore they attempted to proceed towards Key West, their in¬ 
tended place of refuge. In order to do this, however, it was 
necessary to cause the whole party to lie down, in such a way 
as to be hid by the inequalities in the rock, as it was now very 
evident the brig would pass within half a mile of them. Hither¬ 
to, it was not probable that they had been seen, and by using- 
due caution, the chances of Spike’s overlooking them alto¬ 
gether amounted nearly to certainty. 

The necessary arrangements were soon made, the boat’s 
mast unstepped, the party placed behind their covers, and the 
females comfortably bestowed in the spare sail, where they 
might get a little undisturbed sleep after the dreadful night, or 
morning, they had passed. Even Jack Tier lay down to catch 
his nap, as the most useful manner of bestowing himself for a 
couple of hours; the time Mulford had mentioned as the period 
of their stay where they were. 

As for the mate, vigilance was his portion, and he took his 
position, hid like all the rest, where he could watch the move¬ 
ments of his old craft. In about twenty minutes, the brig was 
quite near; so near that Mulford not only saw the people on 


294 


JACK TIER. 


board her, who showed themselves in the rigging, but fancied 
he could recognize their persons. As yet, nothing had occurred 
in the way of change, but just as the Swash got abreast of the 
rock, she began to take in her studding-sails, and that hurried¬ 
ly, as is apt to occur on board a vessel in sudden emergencies. 
Our young man was a little alarmed at first, believing that 
they might have been discovered, but he was soon induced to 
think that the crew of the brigantine had just then begun to ' 
suspect the character of the ship to the northward. That ves¬ 
sel had been drawing near all this time, and was now only 
some three leagues distant. Owing to the manner in which 
she headed, or bows on, it was not a very easy matter to tell 
the character of this stranger, though the symmetry and square¬ 
ness of his yards rendered it nearly certain he was a cruiser. 
Though Spike could not expect to meet his old acquaintance 
here, after the chase he had so lately led her, down on the op¬ 
posite coast, he might and would have his misgivings, and 
Mulford thought it was his intention to haul up close round 
the northern angle of the reef, and maintain his advantage of 
the wind, over the stranger. If this were actually done, it 
might expose the boat to view, for the brig would pass within 
a quarter of a mile of it, and on the side of the rock on which 
it lay. It was too late, however, to attempt a change, since 
the appearance of human beings in such a place would be cer¬ 
tain to draw the brig’s glasses on them, and the glasses must 
at once let Spike know who they were. It remained, there¬ 
fore, only to await the result as patiently as possible. 

A very few minutes removed all doubt. The brig hauled as 
close round the reef as she dared to venture, and in a very 
short time the boat lay exposed to view to all on board her. 
The vessel was now so near that Mulford plainly saw the 
boatswain get upon the coach-house, or little hurricane-house 
deck, where Spike stood examining the ship with his glass, 
and point out the boat, where it lay at the side of the rock. 
In an instant, the glass was levelled at the spot, and the move- 


JACK TIER. 


295 


ments on board the brig immediately betrayed to Mnlford that 
the boat was recognized. Sail was shortened on board the 
Swash, and men were seen preparing to lower her stern boat, 
while every thing indicated that the vessel was about to be 
hove-to. There was no time now to be lost, but the young 
man immediately gave the alarm. 

No sooner did the party arise and show themselves, than 
the crew of the Swash gave three cheers^ By the aid of the 
glass. Spike doubtless recognized their persons, and the fact 
was announced to the men, by way of stimulating their exer¬ 
tions. This gave an additional spur to the movements of those 
on the rock, who hastened into their own boat, and made sail 
as. soon as possible. 

It was far easier to do all that has been described, than to 
determine on the future course. Capture was certain if the 
fugitives ventured into the open waterj and their only hope 
was to remain on the reef. If channels for the passage of the 
boat could be found, escape was highly probable, as the 
schooner’s boat could sail much faster than the brig’s boat 
could row, fast as Mulford knew the last to be. But the ex¬ 
perience of the morning had told the mate that the rock rose 
too near the surface, in many places, for the boat, small as it 
was, to pass over it; and he must trust a great deal to chance. 
Away he went, however, standing along a narrow channel, 
through which the wdnd just permitted him to lay^ with the 
sail occasionally shaking. 

By this time the Swash had her boat in the water, manned 
with four powerful oars. Spike steering it in his own person. 
Our young mate placed Tier in the bows, to point out the 
deepest water, and kept his sail a rap full, in order to get ahead 
as fast as possible. Ahead he did get, but it was on a course 
that soon brought him out in the open water of the main 
passage through the reef, leaving Spike materially astern. The 
latter now rose in his boat, and made a signal with his hat, 
which the boatswain perfectly understood. The latter caused 


296 


JACK TIER. 


the brig to wear short round on her heel, and boarded his 
fore-tack in chase, hauling up into the passage as soon as he 
could again round the reef. Mulford soon saw that it would 
never do for him to venture far from the rocks, the brig going 
two feet to his one, though not looking quite so high as he did 
in the boat. But the Swash had her guns, and it was probable 
they would be used rather than he should escape. When dis¬ 
tant two hundred yards from the reef, therefore, he tacked. 
The new course brought the fugitives nearly at right angles to 
that steered by Spike, who stood directly on, as if conscious 
that, sooner or later, such a rencounter must occur. It would 
seem that the tide was setting through the passage; for when 
the boat of Mulford again reached the reef, it was considerably 
to windward of the channel out of which she had issued, and 
opposite to another which offered very opportunely for her 
entrance. Into this new channel, then, the mate somewhat 
blindly ran, feeling the necessity of getting out of gun-shot of 
the brig at every hazard. She at least could not follow him 
among the rocks, let Spike, in his boat, proceed as he might. 

According to appearances. Spike Avas not likely to be very 
successful. He was obliged to diverge from his course, in order 
to go into the main passage at the very point where Mulford 
had just before done the same thing, and pull along the reef 
to windward, in order to get into the neAV channel, into Avhich 
the boat he Avas pursuing had just entered. This brought him 
not only astern again, but a long bit astern, inasmuch as he 
was compelled to make the circuit described. On he Avent, hoAv- 
ever, as eager in the chase as the hound Avith his game in vieAv. 

Mulford’s boat seemed to fly, and glided ahead at least three 
feet to that of Spike’s tAvo. The direction of the channel it 
Avas in, brought it pretty close to the Avind, but the Avater was 
quite smooth, and our mate managed to keep the sail full, and 
his little craft at the same time quite near the Aveatlierly side 
of the rocks. In the course of ten minutes the fugitives Avere 
fully a mile from the brig, Avhich was unable to folloAV them, 


JACK TIER. 


297 


but kept standing off and on, in the main passage, waiting the 
result. At one time Mulford thought the channel would bring 
him out into open water again, on the northern side of the 
reef, and more than a mile to the eastward of the point where 
the ship-channel in which the Swash was plying commenced; 
but an accidental circumstance prevented his standing in far 
enough to ascertain the fact. That circumstance was as follows : 

In running a mile and a half over the reef, in the manner 
described, Mulford had left the boat of Spike quite half a mile 
astern. He was now out of gun-shot from the brig, or at least 
beyond the range of her grape, the only missile he feared, and 
so far to windward that he kept his eye on every opening to 
the southward, which he fancied might allow of his making a 
stretch deeper into the mazes of the reef, among which he 
believed it easiest for him to escape, and to weary the oarsmen 
of his pursuers. Two or three of these openings offered as 
he glided along, but it struck him that they all looked so high 
that the boat would not lay through them—an opinion in 
which he was right. At length he came abreast of one that 
seemed straight and clear of obstacles as far as he could see, 
and through which he might run with a flowing sheet. Down 
went his helm, and about went his boat, running away to the 
southward as fast as ever. 

Had Spike followed, doubled the same shoal, and kept away 
again in the same channel as had been done by the boat he 
chased, all his hopes of success must have vanished at once. 
This he did not attempt, therefore; but, sheering into one of 
the openings which the mate had rejected, he cut off quite 
half a mile in his distance. This was easy enough for him to 
accomplish, as a row-boat would pull even easier, near to the 
wind, than with the wind broad on its bow. In consequence 
of this short cut, therefore. Spike was actually crossing out 
into Mulford’s new channel, just as the latter had handsomely 
cleared the mouth of the opening through which he effected 
his purpose. 


13 * 


298 


JACK TIER. 


It is scarcely necessary to say, that the two boats must have 
been for a few minutes quite near to each other; so near, in¬ 
deed, did the fugitives now pass to their pursuers, that it would 
have been easy for them to have conversed, had they been so 
disposed. Not a word was spoken, however, butMulford went 
by, leaving Spike about a hundred yards astern. This was a 
trying moment to the latter^ and the devil tempted him to 
seek his revenge. He had not come unarmed on his enter¬ 
prise, but three or four loaded muskets lay in the stern-sheets 
of his yawl. He looked at his men, and saw that they could 
not hold out much longer to pull as they had been pulling. 
Then he looked at Mulford’s boat, and saw it gliding away 
from him at a rate that would shortly place it another half 
mile in advance. He seized a musket, and raised it to his 
shoulder, nay, was in the act of taking aim at his mate, when 
Rose, who watched his movements, threw herself before Harry, 
and if she did not actually save his life, at least prevented 
Spike’s attempt on it for that occasion. In the course of the 
next ten minutes the fugitives had again so far gained on their 
pursuers, that the latter began to see that their efforts were 
useless. Spike muttered a few bitter curses, and told his men 
to lay on their oars. 

“ It’s well for the runaway,” he added, “ that the gal put 
herself between us, else would his grog have been stopped for¬ 
ever. I’ve long suspected this; but had I been sure of it, the 
Gulf Stream would have had the keeping of his body, the first 
dark night we were in it together. Lay on your oars, men, 
lay on your oars; I’m afeared the villian will get through our 
fingers, a’ter all.” 

The men obeyed, and then, for the first time, did they turn 
their heads, to look at those they had been so vehemently pur¬ 
suing. The other boat was quite half a mile from them, and 
it had again tacked. This last occurrence induced Spike to pull 
slowly ahead, in quest of another short passage to cut the fugi¬ 
tives off; but no such opening offered. 


JACK T I E It. 


299 


“ There he goes about again, by George !” exclaimed Spike. 
“ Give way, lads—give way; an easy stroke, for if he is em¬ 
bayed, he can’t escape us !” 

Sure enough, poor Mulford was embayed, and could see no 
outlet by which to pass ahead. He tacked his boat two or 
three times, and he wore round as often; but on every side, 
shoals, or rocks that actually rose above the surface of the water, 
impeded his course. The fact was not to be concealed; after 
all his efforts, and so many promises of success, not only was 
his further progress ahead cut off, but equally so was retreat. 
The passage was not wide enough to admit the hope of getting 
by his pursuers, and the young man came to the conclusion 
that his better course was to submit with dignity to his fate. 
For himself he had no hope—he knew Spike’s character too 
well for that; but he did ilot apprehend any great immediate 
danger to his companions. Spike had a coarse, brutal admira¬ 
tion for Rose! but her expected fortune, which was believed to 
be of more amount than was actually the case, was a sort of 
pledge that he would not willingly put himself in a situation 
that would prevent the possibility of enjoying it. Strange, 
hurried, and somewhat confused thoughts passed through Harry 
Mulford’s mind, as he brailed his sail, and waited for his 
captors to approach and take possession of his boat and him¬ 
self. This was done quietly, and with very few words on the 
part of Spike. 

Mulford would have liked the appearance of things better 
had his old commander cursed him, and betrayed other signs 
of the fury that was boiling in his very soul. On the contrary, 
never had Stephen Spike seemed more calm, or under better 
self-command. He smiled, and saluted Mrs. Budd, just as if 
nothing unpleasant had occurred, and alluded to the sharpness 
of the chase with facetiousness and seeming good-humor. The 
females were deceived by this manner, and hoped, after all, that 
the worst that would happen would be a return to their old 
position on board the Swash. This was being so much better 


300 


JACK TIER. 


off than their horrible situation on the wreck, that the change 
was not frightful to them. 

“ What has become of the schooner, Mr. Mulford ?” asked 
Spike, as the boats began to pass down the channel to return 
to the brig—two of the Swash’s men taking their seats in that 
which had been captured, along with their commander, while 
the other two got a tow from- the use of the sail. “ I see you 
have the boat here that we used alongside of her, and sup¬ 
pose you know something of the craft itself.” 

“ She capsized with us in a squall,” answered the mate, “ and 
we only left the wreck this morning.” 

“Capsized!—hum—that was a hard fate, to be sure, and 
denotes bad seamanship. Now I’ve sailed all sorts of craft 
these forty years, or five-and-thirty at least, and never capsized 
any thing in my life. Stand by there for’ard, to hold on by 
that rock.” 

A solitary cap of the coral rose above the water two or three 
feet, close to the channel, and was the rock to which Spike 
alluded. It was only some fifty feet in diameter, and of an 
oval form, rising quite above the ordinary tides, as was appa¬ 
rent by its appearance. It is scarcely necessary to say it had 
no other fresh water than that which occasionally fell on its 
surface, which surface being quite smooth, retained very little 
of the rain it received. The boat was soon alongside of this 
rock, where it was held broadside-to by the two seamen. 

“ Mr. Mulford, do me the favor to step up here,” said Spike, 
leading the way on to the rock himself. “ I have a word to 
say to you before we get on board the old Molly once more.” 

Mulford silently complied, fully expecting that Spike intend¬ 
ed to blow his brains out, and willing the bloody deed should 
be done in a way to be as little shocking to Rose as circum¬ 
stances would allow. But Spike manifested no such intention. 
A more refined cruelty was uppermost in his mind; and his 
revenge was calculated, and took care to fortify itself with 
some of the quibbles and artifices of the law. He might not 


JACK TIEE. 


301 


be exactly right in his legal reservations, but he did not the 
less rely on their virtue. 

“ Hark’ee, Mr. Mulford,” said Spike sharply, as soon as both 
were on the rock, “you have run from my brig, thereby show¬ 
ing your distaste for her; and I’ve no disposition to keep a 
man who wishes to quit me. Here you are, sir, on terrum firm^ 
as the scholars call it; and here you have my full permission 
to remain. I wish you a good-morning, sir ; and will not fail 
to report, when we get in, that you left the brig of your own 
pleasure.” 

“ You will not have the cruelty to abandon me on this naked 
rock. Captain Spike, and that without a morsel of food, or a 
drop of water ?” 

“Wather is a blessed thing!” exclaimed Biddy. “Do not 
think of lavin’ the gentleman widout wather.” 

“ You left ine^ sir, without food or water, and you can fit out 
your own rock—yes, d—e, sir, you left me under fire^ and that 
is a thing no true-hearted man would have thought of. Stand 
by to make sail, boys; and if he offer to enter the boat, pitch 
him out with the boat-hooks.” 

Spike was getting angry, and he entered the boat again, 
without perceiving that Kose had left it. Light of foot, and 
resolute of spirit, the beautiful girl, handsomer than ever, per¬ 
haps, by her excited feelings and dishevelled hair, had sprung 
on the rock, as Spike stepped into the boat forward, and when 
the latter turned round, after loosening the sail, he found he 
was drifting away from the very being who was the object of 
all his efforts. Mulford, believing that Rose was to be aban¬ 
doned as well as himself, received the noble girl in his arms, 
though ready to implore Spike, on his knees, to return and at 
least to take her off. But Spike wanted no solicitation on that 
point. He returned of his own accord, and had just reached 
the rock again when a report of a gun drew all eyes towards 
the brig. 

The Swash had again run out of the passage, and was beat- 


302 


JACK TIER. 


ing up, close to tlie reef as she dared to go, with a signal 
flying. All the seamen at once understood the cause of this 
hint. The strange sail was getting too near, and everybody 
could see that it was the sloop-of-war. Spike looked at Rose, 
a moment, in doubt. But Mulford raised his beloved in his 
arms, and carried her to the side of the rock, stepping on 
board the boat. 

Spike watched the movements of the young man with jeal¬ 
ous vigilance, and no sooner was Rose placed on her seat, than 
he motioned significantly to the mate to quit the boat. 

“ I cannot and will not voluntarily. Captain Spike,” answered 
Harry, calmly. “ It would be committing a sort of suicide.” 

A sign brought two of the men to the captain’s assistance. 
While the latter held Rose in her place, the sailors shoved 
Harry on the rock again. Had Mulford been disposed to re¬ 
sist, these two men could not very easily have ejected him from 
the boat, if they could have done it at all; but he knew there 
were others in reserve, and feared that blood might be shed, 
in the irritated state of Spike, in the presence of Rose. While, 
therefore, he would not be accessory to his own destruction, 
he would not engage in what he knew would prove not only 
a most harassing, but a bootless resistance. The consequence 
was that the boats proceeded, leaving him alone on the rock. 

It was perhaps fortunate for Rose that she fainted. Her 
condition occupied her aunt and Biddy, and Spike was enabled 
to reach the brig without any further interruption. Rose was 
taken on board still nearly insensible, while her two female 
companions were so much confused and distressed that neither 
could have given a reasonably clear account of what had just 
occurred. Not so with Jack Tier, however. That singular 
being noted all that passed, seated in the eyes of the boat, 
away from the confusion that prevailed in its stern-sheets, and 
apparently undisturbed by it. 

As the party was sailing back towards the brig, the light¬ 
house boat towing the Swash’s yawl. Jack took as good an 


JACK TIER. 


303 


observation of the channels of that part of the reef as his low 
position would allow. He tried to form in his mind a sort of 
chart of the spot, for, from the instant Mulford was thus de¬ 
serted, the little fellow had formed a stern resolution to attempt 
his rescue. How that was to be done, however, was more than 
he yet knew; and when they reached the brig’s side. Tier may 
be said to have been filled with good intentions, rather than 
with any very available knowledge to enable him to put them 
in execution. 

As respects the two vessels, the arrival of Spike on board 
liis own was not a moment too soon. The Poughkeepsie, for 
the stranger to the northward was now ascertained to be that 
sloop-of-war, was within long gun-shot by this time, and near 
enough to make certain, by means of her glasses, of the char¬ 
acter of the craft with which she was closing. Luckily for the 
brig she lay in the channel so often mentioned, and through 
which both she and her present pursuer had so lately come, on 
their way to the northward. This brought her to windward, 
as the wind then stood, with a clear passage before her. Not 
a moment was lost. No sooner were the females sent below, 
than sail was made on the brig, and she began to beat through 
the passage, making long legs and short ones. She was chased, 
as a matter of course, and that hard, the difterence in sailing 
between the two crafts not being sufficiently great to render 
the brigantine’s escape by any means certain, while absolutely 
within the range of those terrible missiles that were used by 
the man-of-war’s men. 

But Spike soon determined not to leave a point so delicate 
as that of his own and his vessel’s security to be decided by a 
mere superiority in the way of heels. The Florida Reef, with 
all its dangers, windings, and rocks, was as well known to him 
as the entrances to the port of New York. In addition to its 
larger channels, of which there are three or four, through 
which ships of size can pass, it had many others that would 
admit only vessels of a lighter draught of water. The brig 


304 


JACK TIER. 


was not flying light, it is true, but she was merely in good 
ballast trim, and passages would be available to her, into which 
the Poughkeepsie would not dare to venture. One of these 
lesser channels was favorably placed to further the escape of 
Spike, and he shoved the brig into it after the struggle had 
lasted less than an hour. This passage offered a shorter cut 
to the south side of the reef than the main channel, and the 
sloop-of-war, doubtless perceiving the uselessness of pursuit, 
under such circumstances, wore round on her heel, and came 
down through the main channel again, just entering the open 
water, near the spot where the schooner had sunk, as the sun 
was setting. 


JACK TIER. 


305 


CHAPTER X. 

“ Shallow. Did her grandsire leave her seven hundred pound ? 

Evans. Ay, and her father is make her a petter penny. 

Shallow. I know the young gentlewoman; sho has good gifts. 

Evans. Seven hundred pounds, and possibilities, is good gifts.*’ 

Shakspeabe, 

As for Spike, he had no intention of going to the sontliward 
of the Florida Reef again until his business called him there. 
The lost bag of doubloons was still gleaming before his imagi¬ 
nation, and no sooner did the Poughkeepsie bear up, than he 
shortened sail, standing back and forth in his narrow and 
crooked channel, rather losing ground than gaining, though 
he took great pains not to let his artifice be seen. When the 
Poughkeepsie was so far to the northward as to render it safe, 
he took in every thing but one or two of his lowest sails, and 
followed easily in the same direction. As the sloop-of-war 
carried her light and loftier sails, she remained visible to the 
people of the Swash long after the Swash had ceased to be 
visible to her. Profiting by this circumstance. Spike entered 
the main channel again some time before it was dark, and se¬ 
lected a safe anchorage there that was well known to him ; a 
spot where sufiicient sand had collected on the coral to make 
good holding-ground, and where a vessel would be nearly em¬ 
bayed, though always to windward of her channel going out, 
by the formation of the reef. Here he anchored, in order to 
wait until morning ere he ventured farther north. During the 
whole of that dreadful day. Rose had remained in her cabin, 
disconsolate, nearly unable, as she was absolutely unwilling, to 
converse. Now it was that she felt the total insufficiency of a 


306 


JACK TIER. 


mind feeble as that of her aunt’s, to administer consolation to 
misery like her own. Nevertheless, the affectionate solicitude 
of Mrs. Budd, as well as that of the faithful creature, Biddy, 
brought some relief, and reason and resignation began slowly 
to resume their influence. Yet was the horrible picture of Harry, 
dying by inches, deserted in the midst of the waters on his 
solitary rock, ever present to her thoughts, until, once or twice, 
her feelings verged on madness. Prayer brought its customary 
relief, however; and we do not think that we much exaggerate 
the fact, when we say that Rose passed fully one half of that 
terrible afternoon on her knees. 

As for Jack Tier, he was received on board the brig much 
as if nothing had happened. Spike passed and repassed him 
fifty times, without even an angry look, or a word of abuse; 
and the deputy-steward dropped quietly into the duties of his 
office, without meeting with either reproach or hindrance. The 
only allusion, indeed, that was made to his recent adventures, 
took place in a conversation that was held on the subject in the 
galley, the interlocutors being Jack himself. Josh, the steward, 
and Simon, the cook. 

“ Where you been scullin’ to, ’bout on dat reef. Jack, wid 
dem ’ere women, I won’er now ?” demanded Josh, after tasting 
the cabin soup, in order to ascertain how near it was to being 
done. “ I t’ink it no great fun to dodge ’bout among dem rock 
in a boat, for anudder hurricane might come when a body 
least expeck him.” 

' “Oh,” said Jack, cavalierly, “two hurricanes no more come 
in one month, than two shot in the same hole. We’ve been 
turtlin’, that’s all. I wish we had in your coppers, cook, some 
of the critters that we fell in with in our cruise.” 

“ Wish’e had, master steward, wid all my heart,” answered 
the fat, glistening potentate of the galley. “ But hark’ee. Jack, 
what became of our young mate, can ’e tell ? Some say he 
get kill at ’e Dry Tortugas, and some say he war’ scullin’ round 
in dat boat you hab, wid ’e young woman, eh ?” 


JACK TIER. 


307 


“ Ah, boys,” answered Jack, mournfully, “ sure enough, what 
haa become of him ?” 

“ You know, why can’t you tell ? What good to hah secret 
among friend ?” 

“Are ye his friends, lads ? Do you really feel as if you could 
give a poor soul in its agony a helpin’ hand ?” 

“Why not?” said Josh, in a reproachful way. “Misser 
Mulford’s ’e bess mate dis brig ebber get; and I don’t see why 
Cap’in Spike want to be rid of him.” 

“Because he’s a willian !” returned Jack between his grated 
teeth. “D’ye know what that means in English, master Josh ; 
and can you and cook here, both of whom have sailed with 
the man years in and years out, say whether my words be true 
or not ?” 

“ Dat as a body understand ’em. Accordin’ to some rule, 
Stephen Spike not a werry honest man; but accordin’ to ’nud- 
der some, he as good as anybody else.” 

“ Yes, dat just be upshot of de matter,” put in Simon, ap¬ 
provingly. “ De whole case lie in dat meanin’.” 

“ D’ye call it right to leave a human being to starve, or to 
suffer for water, on a naked rock, in the midst of the ocean ?” 

“ Who do dat ?” 

“ The willian who is captain of this brig; and all because he 
thinks young eyes and bloomin’ cheeks prefar young eyes and 
bloomin’ cheeks to his own grizzly beard and old look-outs.” 

“ Dat bad; dat werry bad,” said Josh, shaking his head, a 
way of denoting dissatisfaction, in which Simon joined him; 
for no crime appeared sufficiently grave in the eyes of these two 
sleek and well-fed officials to justify such a punishment. “ Dat 
mons’ous bad, and cap’in ought to know better dan do dat. I 
nebber starves a mouse, if I catches him in de bread-locker. 
Now, dat a sort of reason’ble punishment, too; but I nebber 
does it. If mouse eat my bread, it do seem right to tell mouse 
dat he hab enough, and dat he must not eat any more for a 
week, or a mont’, but it too cruel for me, and I nebber does it; 


308 


JACK TIER. 


no, I t’rows de little debil overboard, and lets him drown like a 
gentle’em.” 

“Y-e-s,” drawled out Simon, in a philanthropical tone of 
voice, “ dat’e best way. What good it do to torment a fellow- 
critter ? If Misser Mulford run, why put him down run, and 
let him go, I say, on’y mulk his wages; but what good it do 
anybody to starve him ? Now dis is my opinion, gentle’em, and 
dat is, dat starwation be wuss dan choleric. Choleric kill, I 
knows, and so does starwation kill; but of de two, give me de 
choleric fuss; if I gets well of dat, den try starwation if you 
can.” 

“ I’m glad to hear you talk in this manner, my hearties,” put 
in Jack ; “ and I hope I may find you accommodatin’ in a plan 
I’ve got to help the maty out of this difiiculty. As a friend of 
Stephen Spike’s, I would do it; for it must be a terrible thing 
to die with such a murder on one’s soul. Here’s the boat that 
we pick’d up at the lighthouse, yonder, in tow of the brig at 
this minute; and there’s every thing in her comfortable for a 
good long run, as I know from having sailed in her ; and what 
I mean is this : as we left Mr. Mulford, I took the bearings and 
distance of the rock he was on, d’ye understand, and think I 
could find my way back to it. You see the brig is traveilin’ 
slowly north ag’in, and afore long we shall be in the neighbor¬ 
hood of that very rock. We, cook and stewards, will be called 
on to keep an anchor-w^atch, if the brig fetches up, as I heard 
the captain tell the Spanish gentleman he thought she would; 
and then we can take the boat that’s in the water and go and 
have a hunt for the maty.” 

The two blacks looked at Tier earnestly ; then they turned 
their heads to look at each other. The idea struck each as 
bold and novel, but each saw serious difficulties in it. At 
length Josh, as became his superior station, took on himself 
the ofiice of expressing the objections that occurred to his 
mind. 

“Dat nebber do !” exclaimed the steward. “We be’s quite 


JACK TIER. 


309 


willin’ to serve’e mate, who’s a good gentle’em, and as nice a 
young man as ever sung out, ‘ hard a-lee,’ but we must t’ink 
little bit of number one ; or, for dat matter, of number two, as 
Simon would be implercated as well as myself. If Cap’in 
Spike once knew we’ve lent a hand in sich a job, he’d never 
overlook it. I knows him, well; and that is sayin’ as much as 
need be said of any man’s character. You nebber catch me 
runnin’ myself into his jaws ; would rather fight a shark widout 
any knife. No, no—I knows him well. Den comes anudder 
werry unanswerable objecsh’un, and dat is, dat’e brig owe bot’ 
Simon and I money. Fifty dollars, each on us, if she owe one 
cent. Now, do you t’ink in cander. Jack, dat two color’ gen¬ 
tle’em, like us, can t’row away our fortins like two sons of a 
York merchant dat has inherited a hundred t’ousand dollar 
tudder day ?” 

“ There is no occasion for running at all, or for losing your 
wages.” 

“ How you get’e mate off, den ? Can he walk away on de 
water ? If so, let him go widout us. A werry good gentle’em 
is Misser Mulford, but not good enough to mulk Simon and me 
out of fifty dollar each.” 

“You will not hear my project. Josh, and so will never 
know what I would be at.” 

“ Well, come, tell him jest as you surposes him. Now listen, 
Simon, so dat not a word be loss.” 

“ My plan is to take the boat, if we anchor, as anchor I 
know we shall, and go and find the rock and bring Mr. Mul¬ 
ford oft’; then we can come- back to the brig, and get on 
board ourselves, and let the mate sail away in the boat by 
liimself. On this plan nobody will run, and no wages be 
mulcted.” 

“ But dat take time, and an anchor-watch last but two 
hour, suposin’ even dat’ey puts all t’ree of us in de same 
watch.” 

“ Spike usually does that, you know. ‘ Let the cook and 


310 


JACK TIER. 


tlie stewards keep the midnight watch,’ he commonly says, 

‘ and that will give the foremost hands a better snooze.’ ” 

“Yes, he do say Josh,” put in Simon, “mostebbery 
time we comes-to.” 

“ I know he does, and surposes he will say it to-night, if he 
comes-to to-night. But a two-hour watch may not be long 
enough to do all you wants; and den, jest t’ink for a moment, 
should ’e cap’in come on deck and hail ’e forecastle, and find 
us all gone, I wouldn’t be in your skin, Jack, for dis brig, in 
sich a kerlamity. I know Cap’in Spike well; t’ree time I endeb- 
ber to run myself, and each time he bring me up wid a round turn; 
so, now-a-days, I nebber t’inks of sich a projeck any longer.” 

“ But I do not intend to leave the forecastle without some 
one on it to answer a hail. No, all I want is a companion; 
for I do not like to go out on the reef at midnight, all alone. 
If one of you will go with me, the other can stay and answer 
the captain’s hail, should he really come on deck in our watch 
—a thing very little likely to happen. When once his head 
is on his pillow, a’ter a hard day’s work, it’s not very apt to 
be lifted ag’in without a call, or a squall. If you do know 
Stephen Spike well^ Josh, I know him better.” 

“Well, Jack, dis here is a new idee, d’ye see, and a body 
must take time to consider on it. If Simon and I do ship for 
dis v’y’ge, ’twill be for lub of Mr. Mulford, and not for his 
money or your'nr 

This was all the encouragement of his project Jack Tier 
could obtain, on that occasion, from either his brother steward, 
or from the cook. These blacks were well enough disposed 
to rescue an innocent and unoffending man from the atrocious 
death to which Spike had condemned his mate, but neither 
lost sight of his own security or interest. They promised Tier 
not to betray him, however; and he had the fullest confidence 
in their pledges. They who live together in common, usually 
understand the feeling that prevails, on any given point, in 
their own set; and Jack felt pretty certain that Harry was a 


JACK TIER. 


311 


greater favorite in and about the camboose than the captain. 
On that feeling he relied, and he was fain to wait the course 
of events, ere he came to any absolute conclusion as to his 
own course. 

The interview in the galley took place about half an hour 
before the brig anchored for the night. Tier, who often as¬ 
sisted on such occasions, went aloft to help secure the royal, 
one of the gaskets of which had got loose, and from the yard 
he had an excellent opportunity to take a look at the reef, the 
situation of the vessel, and the probable bearings of the rock 
on which poor Mulford had been devoted to a miserable death. 
This opportunity was much increased by Spike’s hailing him, 
while on the yard, and ordering him to take a good look at 
the sloop-of-war, and at the same time to ascertain if any 
boats were “ prowlin’ about, in order to make a set upon us in 
the night.” On receiving this welcome order. Jack answered 
with a cheerful “Ay, ay, sir,” and standing up on the yard, 
he placed an arm around the mast, and remained for a long 
time making his observations. The command to look-out for 
boats would have been a sufficient excuse had he continued on 
the yard as long as it was light. 

Jack had no difficulty in finding the Poughkeepsie, which 
was already through the passage, and no longer visible from 
the deck. She appeared to be standing to the northward and 
westward, under easy canvas, like a craft that was in no hurry. 
This fact was communicated to Spike in the usual way. The 
latter seemed pleased, and he answered in a hearty manner, 
just as if no difficulty had ever occurred between him and the 
steward’s assistant. 

“Very well. Jack! bravo. Jack!—now take a good look for 
boats; you’ll have light enough for that this half hour,” cried 
the captain. “ If any are out, you’ll find them pulling down 
the channel, or maybe they’ll try to shorten the cut, by at¬ 
tempting to pull athwart the reef. Take a good and steady 
look for them my man.” 


312 


JACK TIER. 


“ Ay, ay, sir; I’ll do all I can with naked eyes,” answered 
Jack, “but I could do better, sir, if they would only send me 
up a glass by these here signal-halyards. With a glass, a fel¬ 
low might speak with some sartainty.” 

Spike seemed struck with the truth of this suggestion ; and 
he soon sent up a glass aloft by the signal-halyards. Thus 
provided. Jack descended as low as the cross-trees, where he 
took his seat, and began to survey at his leisure. While thus 
employed, the brig was secured for the night, her decks were 
cleared, and the people were ordered to get their suppers, pre¬ 
viously to setting an anchor-watch, and turning-in for the night. 
No one heeded the movements of Tier—for Spike had gone 
into his own stateroom—with the exception of Josh and Simon. 
Those two worthies were still in the galley, conversing on the 
subject of Jack’s recent communications; and ever and anon_ 
one of them would stick his head out of the door and look 
aloft, withdrawing it, and shaking it significantly, as soon as 
his observations were ended. 

As for Tier, he was seated quite at his ease; and having 
slung his glass to one of the shrouds, in a way to admit of its 
being turned as on a pivot, he had every opportunity for ob¬ 
serving accurately, and at his leisure. The first thing Jack 
did, was to examine the channel very closely, in order to make 
sure that no boats were in it, after which he turned the glass 
with great eagerness towards the reef, in the almost hopeless 
ofiice of ascertaining something concerning Mulford. In point 
of fact, the brig had anchored quite three leagues from the 
solitary rock of the deserted mate, and, favored as he was • by 
his elevation. Jack could hardly expect to discern so small and 
low an object as that rock at so great a distance. Nevertheless, 
the glass was much better than common. It had been a present 
to Spike from one who was careful in his selections of such 
objects, and who had accidentally been under a serious obliga¬ 
tion to the captain. Knowing the importance of a good look, 
as regards the boats, Spike had brought this particular instru- 


JACK TIER. 


.313 


ment, of which, in common, he was very chary, from his own 
stateroom, and sent it aloft, in order that Jack might have 
ev^ry available opportunity of ascertaining his facts. It was 
this glass, then, which was the means of the important dis¬ 
coveries the little fellow, who was thus perched on the fore¬ 
topmast cross-trees of the Swash, did actually succeed in mak¬ 
ing. 

Jack actually started, when he first ascertained how dis¬ 
tinctly and near the glass he was using brought distant objects. 
The gulls that sailed across its disk, though a league oft', ap¬ 
peared as if near enough to be touched by the hand, and even 
their feathers gave out not only their hues, but their forms. 
Thus, too, was it with the surface of the ocean, of which the 
little waves that agitated the water of the reef, might be seen 
tossing up and down, at more than twice the range of the Pough¬ 
keepsie’s heaviest gun. Naked rocks, low and subdued as they 
were in color, too, were to be noted, scattered up and down in 
the panorama. At length Tier fancied his glass covered a field 
that he recognized. It was distant, but might be seen from 
his present elevation. A second look satisfied him he was 
right; and he next clearly traced the last channel in which 
they had endeavored to escape from Spike, or that in which the 
boat had been taken. Following it along, by slowly moving 
the glass, he actually hit the rock on which Mulford had been 
deserted. It was peculiar in shape, size, and elevation above 
the water, and connected with the circumstance of the channel, 
which was easy enough seen by the color of the water, and 
more easily from his height than if he had been in it, he could 
not be mistaken. The little fellow’s heart beat quick as he 
made the glass move slowly over its surface, anxiously search¬ 
ing for the form of the mate. It was not to be seen. A second, 
and a more careful sweep of the glass, made it certain that the 
rock was deserted. 

Although a little refiection might have satisfied any one 
Mulford was not to be sought in that particular spot, so long 

14 


314 


JACK TIER. 


after he had been left there, Jack Tier felt grievously disap¬ 
pointed when he was first made certain of the accuracy of his 
observations. A minute later he began to reason on the mat¬ 
ter, and he felt more encouraged. The rock on which the 
mate had been abandoned was smooth, and could not hold any 
fresh water that might have been left by the late showers. 
Jack also remembered that it had neither sea-weed nor shell¬ 
fish. In short, the utmost malice of Spike could not have se¬ 
lected, for the immolation of his victim, a more suitable place. 
Now Tier had heard Harry’s explanation to Rose, touching the 
manner in which he had waded and swum about the reef that 
very morning, and it at once occurred to him that the young 
man had too much energy and spirit to remain helpless and 
inactive to perish on a naked rock, when there might be a 
possibility of at least prolonging existence, if not of saving it. 
This induced the steward to turn the glass slowly over the 
water, and along all the ranges of visible rock that he could 
find in that vicinity. For a long time the search was useless, 
the distance rendering such an examination not only difficult, 
but painful. At length Jack, about to give up the matter in 
despair, took one sweep with the glass nearer to the brig, as 
much to obtain a general idea of the boat-channels of the reef, 
as in any hope of finding Mulford, when an object moving in 
the water came within the field of the glass. He saw it but 
for an instant, as the glass swept slowly past, but it struck him 
it was something that had life, and was in motion. Carefully 
going over the same ground again, after a long search, he 
again found what he so anxiously sought. A good look satis¬ 
fied him that he was right. It was certainly a man wading 
along the shallow water of the reef, immersed to his waist— 
and it must be Mulford. 

So excited was Jack Tier by this discovery that he trembled 
like a leaf. A minute or two elapsed before he could again 
use the glass; and when he did, a long and anxious search 
was necessary before so small an object could be once more 


JACK TIER. 


315 


found. Find it he did, however, and then he got its range by 
the vessel, in a way to make sure of it. Yes, it was a man, 
and it was Mulford. 

Circumstances conspired to aid Jack in the investigation that 
succeeded. The sun was near setting, but a stream of golden 
light gleamed over the waters, particularly illuminating the 
portion which came within the field of the glass. It appeared 
then that Harry, in his efforts to escape from the rock, and to 
get nearer to the edge of the main channel, where his chances 
of being seen and rescued would be tenfold what they were 
on his rock, had moved south, by following the naked reef and 
the shallow places, and was actually more than a league nearer 
to the brig than he would have been had he remained sta¬ 
tionary. There had been hours in which to make this change, 
and the young man had probably improved them to the ut¬ 
most. 

Jack watched the form that was wading slowly along with 
an interest he had never before felt in the movements of any 
human being. Whether Mulford saw the brig or not, it was 
difiicult to say. She was quite two leagues from him, and, 
now that her sails were furled, she offered but little for the 
eye to rest on at that distance. At first. Jack thought the 
young man was actually endeavoring to get nearer to her, 
though it must have been a forlorn hope that should again 
place him in the hands of Spike. It was, however, a more 
probable conjecture that the young man was endeavoring to 
reach the margin of the passage, where a good deal of rock 
was above water, and near to which he had already managed 
to reach. At one time Jack saw that the mate was obliged to 
swim, and he actually lost sight of him for a time. His form, 
however, reappeared, and then it slowly emerged from the 
water, and stood erect on a bare rock of some extent. Jack 
breathed freer at this; for Mulford was now on the very margin 
of the channel, and might be easily reached by the boat, should 
he prevail on Josh, or Simon, to attempt the rescue. 


316 


JACK TIER. 


At first, Jack Tier fancied that Mulford had knelt to return 
thanks on his arrival at a place of comparative safety; but a 
second look satisfied him that Harry was drinking from one of 
the little pools of fresh water left by the late shower. When 
he rose from drinking, the young man walked about the place, 
occasionally stooping, signs that he was picking up shell-fish 
for his supper. Suddenly, Mulford darted forward and passed 
beyond the field of the glass. When Jack found him again, 
he was in the act of turning a small turtle, using his knife on 
the animal immediately after. Had Jack been in danger of 
starvation himself, and found a source of food as ample and as 
grateful as this, he could scarcely have been more delighted. 
The light now began to wane perceptibly, still Harry’s move¬ 
ments could be discerned. The turtle was killed and dressed, 
sufficiently at least for the mate’s purposes, and the latter was 
seen collecting sea-weed, and bits of plank, boards, and sticks 
of wood, of which more or less, in drifting past, had lodged 
upon the rocks. “ Is it possible,” thought Jack, “that he is so 
werry partic’lar he can’t eat his turtle raw ! Will he, indeed, 
venture to light a fire, or has he the means ?” Mulford was 
so particular, however, he did venture to light a fire, and he 
had the means. This may be said to be the age of matches— 
not in a connubial, though in an inflammatory sense—and the 
mate had a small stock in a tight box that he habitually car¬ 
ried on his person. Tier saw him at work over a little pile he 
had made, for a long time, the beams of day departing now so 
fast as to make him fearful he should soon lose his object in 
the increasing obscurity of twilight. Suddenly a light gleamed, 
and the pile sent forth a clear flame. Mulford went to and 
fro, collecting materials to feed his fire, and was soon busied in 
cooking his turtle. All this Tier saw and understood, the light 
of the flames coming in proper time to supply the vacuum left 
by the departure of that of day. 

In a minute Tier had no difficulty in seeing the fire that 
Mulford had lighted on his low and insulated domains with the 


JACK TIER. 


317 


nalced eye. It gleamed brightly in that solitary place; and 
the steward was much afraid it would be seen by some one on 
deck, get to be reported to Spike, and lead to Harry’s destruc¬ 
tion after all. The mate appeared to be insensible to his dan¬ 
ger, however, occasionally casting piles of dry sea-weed on his 
fire, in a way to cause the flames to flash up, as if kindled anew 
by gunpowder. It now occurred to Tier that the young man 
had a double object in lighting this fire, which would answer 
not only the purposes of his cookery, but as a signal of distress 
to any thing passing near. The sloop-of-war, though more dis¬ 
tant than the brig, was in his neighborhocd-; and she might 
possibly yet send relief. Such was the state of things when 
Jack was startled by a sudden hail from below. It was Spike’s 
voice, and came up to him short and quick. 

“ Fore-topmast cross-trees, there! What are ye about all 
this time. Master Jack Tier, in them fore-topmast cross-trees, I 
say ?” demanded Spike. 

“ Keeping a look-out for boats from the sloop-of-war, as you 
bade me, sir,” answered Jack, coolly. 

“ D’ye see any, my man ? Is the water clear ahead of us, or 
not ?” 

“ It’s getting to be so dark, sir, I can see no longer. While 
there was daylight, no boat was to be seen.” 

“ Come down, man—come down ; I’ve business for you be¬ 
low. The sloop is far enough to the nor’ard, and we shall 
neither see nor hear from her to-night. Come down, I say. 
Jack—come down.” 

Jack obeyed, and securing the glass, he began to descend the 
rigging. lie was soon as low as the top, when he paused a 
moment to take another look. The fire was still visible, shining 
like a torch on the surface of the water, casting its beams abroad 
like “ a good deed in a naughty world.” Jack was sorry to see 
it, though he once more took its bearing from the brig, in or¬ 
der that he might know where to find the spot, in the event of 
a search for it. When on the stretcher of the fore-rigging. 


318 


JACK TIER. 


Jack stopped and again looked for his beacon. It had disap¬ 
peared, having sunk below the circular formation of the earth. 
By ascending two or three ratlins, it came into view, and by 
going down as low as the stretcher again it disappeared. Trust¬ 
ing that no one, at that hour, would have occasion to go aloft. 
Jack now descended to the deck, and went aft with the spy-glass. 

Spike and the Senor Montefalderon were under the coach¬ 
house, no one else appearing on any part of the quarter-deck. 
The people were eating their suppers, and Josh and Simon 
were busy in the galley. As for the females, they chose to 
remain in their own cabin, where Spike was well pleased to 
leave them. 

“ Come this way. Jack,” said the captain, in his best-humored 
tone of voice, “ I’ve a word to say to you. Put the glass' in 
at my stateroom window, and come hither.” 

Tier did as ordered. 

“So you can make out no boats to the nor’ard, ha. Jack! 
nothing to be seen thereaway ?” 

“Nothing in the way of a boat, sir.” 

“ Ay, ay, I dare say there’s plenty of water, and some rock. 
The Florida Beef has no scarcity of either, to them that knows 
where to look for one, and to steer clear of the other. Hark’e, 
Jack; so you got the schooner under way from the Dry Tor- 
tugas, and undertook to beat her up to Key West, when she 
fancied herself a turtle, and over she went with you—is that it, 
my man ?” 

“ The schooner turned turtle with us, sure enough, sir; and 
we all came near drowning on her bottom.” 

“No sharks in that latitude and longitude, eh Jack?” 

“ Plenty on ’em, sir; and I thought they would have got us 
all, at one time. More than twenty set of fins were in sight at 
once, for several hours.” 

“You could hardly have supplied the gentlemen with a leg, 
or an arm, each. But where was the boat all this time—you 
had the lighthouse boat in tow, I suppose ?” 


JACK TIER. 


319 


“ She had been in tow, sir; but Madam Budd talked so much 
dictionary to the painter that it got adrift.” 

“Yet I found you all in it.” 

“ Yery true, sir. Mr. Mulford swam quite a mile to reach 
the rocks, and found the boat aground on one on ’em. As soon 
as he got the boat, he made sail, and came and took us off. 
We had reason to thank God he could do so.” 

Spike looked dark and thoughtful. He muttered the words 
“ swam,” and “ rocks,” but was too cautious to allow any expres¬ 
sions to escape him, that might betray to the Mexican officer 
that which was uppermost in his mind. .He was silent, how¬ 
ever, for quite a minute, and Jack saw that he had awakened 
a dangerous source of distrust in the captain’s breast. 

“Well, Jack,” resumed Spike, after the pause, “can you tell 
any thing of the doubloons ? I nat’rally expected to find them 
in the boat, but there was none to be seen. You scarcely 
pumped the schooner out, without overhauling her lockers, 
and falling in with them doubloons.” 

“We found them, sure enough, and had them ashore with 
us, in the tent, down to the moment when we sailed.” 

“ When you took them off to the schooner, eh ? My life for 
it, the gold was not forgotten.” 

“ It was not, sure enough, sir; but we took it off with us to 
the schooner, and it went down in her when she finally sunk.” 

Another pause, during which Sefior Montefalderon and Cap¬ 
tain Spike looked significantly at each other. 

“ Do you think. Jack, you could find the spot where the 
schooner went down?” 

“ I could come pretty near it, sir, though not on the very 
spot itself. Water leaves no mark over the grave of a sunken 
ship.” 

“ If you can take us within a reasonable distance, we might 
find it by sweeping for it. Them doubloons are worth some 
trouble; and their recovery would be better than a long v’y’ge 
to us, any day.” 


320 


JACK TIER. 


“ They would, indeed, Don Esteban,” observed the Mexican; 
“ and my poor country is not in a condition to bear heavy 
losses. If Seiior Jack Tier can find the wreck, and we regain 
the money, ten of those doubloons shall be his reward, though 
I take them from my own share, much diminished as it will 
be.” 

“You hear. Jack—here is a chance to make your fortune! 
You say you sailed with me in old times—and old times were 
good times with this brig, though times has changed; but if 
you sailed with me, in old times, you must remember that 
whatever the Swash touched she turned to gold.” 

“ I hope you don’t doubt. Captain Spike, my having sailed 
in the brig, not only in old times, but in her best thnes.” 

Jack seemed hurt as he put this question, and Spike appear¬ 
ed in doubt. The latter gazed at the little, rotund, queer-look¬ 
ing figure before him, as if endeavoring to recognize him; and 
when he had done, he passed his hand over his brow, like one 
who endeavored to recall past objects by excluding those that 
are present. 

“You will then show us the spot where my unfortunate 
schooner did sink, Senor Jack Tier?” put in the Mexican. 

“ With all my heart, senor, if it is to be found. I think I 
could take you within a cable’s length of the place, though 
hunger, and thirst, and sharks, and the fear of drowning, will 
keep a fellow from having a very bright look-out for such a 
matter.” 

“In what water do you suppose the craft to lie. Jack?” de¬ 
manded the captain. 

“You know as much of that as I do myself, sir. She went 
down about the cable’s length from the reef, towards which she 
was a settin’ at the time; and had she kept afloat an hour 
longer, she might have grounded on the rocks.” 

“ She’s better where she is, if we can only find her by sweep¬ 
ing. On the rocks we could do nothing with her but break her 
up, and ten to one the doubloons would be lost. By the way, 


JACK TIER. 


321 


Jack, do you happen to know where that scoundrel of a mate 
of mine stowed the money ?” 

“ When we left the island, I carried it down to the boat my¬ 
self—and a good lift I had of it. As sure as you are there, 
senor, I was obliged to take it on a shoulder. When it came 
out of the boat, Mr. Mulford carried it below; an*d I heard him tell 
Miss Rose, a’terwards, that he had thrown it into a bread-locker.” 

“ Where we shall find it, Don Wan, notwithstanding all this 
veering and hauling. The old brig has luck when doubloons 
are in question, and ever has had since I’ve commanded her. 
Jack, we shall have to call on the cook and stewards for an 
anchor-watch to-night. The people are a 'good deal fiigged with 
boxing about this reef so much, and I shall want ’em all as fresh 
to-morrow as they can be got. You idlers had better take the 
middle watches, which will give the forecastle chaps longer naps.” 

“Ay, ay, sir; we’ll manage that for ’em. Josh and Simon 
can go on at twelve, and I will take the watch at two, which 
will give the men all the rest they want, as I can hold out for 
four hours full. I’m as good for an anchor-watch as any man 
in the brig. Captain Spike.” 

“That you are. Jack, and better than some on’em. Take 
you all round, and round it is, you’re a rum ’un, my lad—the 
queerest little jigger that ever lay out on a royal-yard.” 

Jack might have been a little offended at Spike’s compli¬ 
ments, but he was certainly not sorry to find him so good- 
natured, after all that had passed. He now left the captain, 
and his Mexican companion, seemingly in close conference to¬ 
gether, while he went below himself, and dropped as naturally 
into the routine of his duty, as if he had never left the brig. 
In the cabin he found the females, of course. Rose scarce rais¬ 
ing her face from the shawl which lay on the bed of her 
own berth. Jack busied himself in a locker near this berth, 
until an opportunity occurred to touch Rose, unseen by her 
aunt or Biddy. The poor heart-stricken girl raised her face, 
from which all the color had departed, and looked almost 

14 ^ 


322 


JACK TIER. 


vacantly at Jack, as if to ask an explanation. Hope is truly, 
by a most benevolent provision of Providence, one of the very 
last blessings to abandon us. It is probable that we are thus 
gifted, in order to encourage us to rely on the great atonement 
to the last moment, since, without this natural endowment to cling 
to hope, despair might well be the fate of millions, who, there is_ 
reason to think, reap the benefit of that act of divine mercy. It 
would hardly do to say that any thing like hope was blended with 
the look Rose now cast on Jack, but it was anxious and inquiring. 

The steward bent his head to the locker, bringing his face 
quite near to that of Rose, and whispered—“ There is hope. 
Miss Rose—but do not betray me.” 

These were blessed words for our heroine to hear, and they 
produced an immediate and great revolution in her feelings. 
Commanding herself, however, she looked her questions, instead 
of trusting even to a whisper. Jack did not say any more, just 
then; but, shortly after, he called Rose, whose eyes were now 
never off him, into the main cabin, which was empty. It was 
so much pleasanter to sleep in an airy stateroom on deck, that 
Senor Montefalderon, indeed, had given up the use of this cabin, 
in a great measure, seldom appearing in it, except at meals, 
having taken possession of the deserted apartment of Mulford. 
Josh was in the galley, where he spent most of his time, and 
Rose and Jack had no one to disturb their conference. 

“ He is safe. Miss Rose—God be praised!” whispered Jack. 
“ Safe for the present, at least; with food, and water, and fire 
to keep him warm at night.” 

It was impossible for Rose not to understand to whoin there 
was allusion, though her head became dizzy under the painful 
confusion that prevailed in it. She pressed her temples with 
both hands, and asked a thousand questions with her eyes. 
Jack considerately handed her a glass of water before he pro¬ 
ceeded. As soon as he found her a little more composed, he 
related the facts connected with his discovery of Mulford, pre¬ 
cisely as they had occurred. 


JACK TIER. 


323 


“ He is now on a large rock—a little island, indeed—where 
he is safe from the ocean unless it come on to blow a hurricane,” 
concluded Jack, “ and has fresh water and fresh turtle in the bar¬ 
gain. A man might live a month on one such turtle as I saw 
Mr. Mulford cutting up this evening.” 

“ Is there no way of rescuing him from the situation you 
have mentioned. Jack ? In a year or two I shall be my own 
mistress, and have money to do as I please with ‘ put me only 
in the way of taking Mr. Mulford from that rock, and I will 
share all I am worth on earth with you, dear Jack.” 

“ Ay, so it is with the whole sex,” muttered Tier; “ let them 
only once give up their affections to a man, and he becomes 
dearer to them than pearls and rubies! But you know me. 
Miss Rose, and know why and how well I would sarve yon. 
My story and my feelin’s are as much your secret, as your story 
and your feelin’s is mine. We shall pull together, if we don’t 
pull so very strong. Now, hearken to me. Miss Rose, and I will let 
you into the secret of my plan to help Mr. Mulford make a launch.” 

Jack then communicated to his companion his whole project 
for the night. Spike had, of his own accord, given to him and 
his two associates, Simon and Josh, the care of the brig be¬ 
tween midnight and morning. If he could prevail on either 
of these two men to accompany him, it was his intention to 
take the lighthouse boat, wdiich was riding by its painter astern 
of the brig, and proceed as fast as they could to the spot whither 
Mulford had found his way. By his calculations, if the wind 
stood as it then was, little more than an hour would be neces¬ 
sary to reach the rock, and about as much more to return. 
Should the breeze lull, of which there was no great danger, 
since the easterly trades were again blowing. Jack thought he 
and Josh might go over the distance with the oars in about 
double the time. Should both Josh and Simon refuse to ac¬ 
company him, he thought he should attempt the rescue of the 
mate alone, did the wind stand, trusting to Mulford’s assistance, 
should he need it, in getting back to the brig. 


324 


JACK TIER. 


“ You surely would not come back herewith Harry, did you 
once get him safe from off that rock!” exclaimed Rose. 

“ Why, you know how it is with me, Miss Rose,” answered 
Jack. “ My businerss is here, on board the Swash, and I must 
attend to it. Nothing shall tempt me to give up the brig so 
long as she floats, and sartain folk float in her, unless it might 
be some such matter as that which happened on the bit of an 
island at the Dry Tortugas. Ah ! he’s a willian! But if I do 
come back, it will be only to get into my own proper berth 
ag’in, and not to bring Mr. Mulford into the lion’s jaws. He 
will only have to put me back on board the Molly here, when he 
can make the best of his own way to Key West. Half an hour 
would place him out of harm’s way ; especially as I happen to 
know the course Spike means to steer in the morning.” 

“I will go Avith you, Jack,” said Rose, mildly, but with great 
firmness. 

“You, Miss Rose! But why should I show surprise? It’s 
like all the sex, when they have given away their affections. 
Yes, woman will be Avoman, put her on a naked rock, or put her 
in silks and satins in her parlor at home. Hoav different is it 
with men I They dote for a little Avhile, and turn to a new 
face. It must be said, men’s willians 1” 

“ Not Mulford, Jack—no, not Harry Mulford 1 A truer or a 
nobler heart never beat in a human breast; and you and I will 
drown together, rather than he should not be taken from that rock.” 

“It shall be as you say,” ansAvered Jack, a little thoughtfully. 
“ Perhaps it Avould be best that you should quit the brig alto¬ 
gether. Spike is getting desperate, and you Avill be safer Avith 
the young mate than Avith so great an old Avillian. Yes, you 
shall go with me. Miss Rose ; and if Josh and Simon both re¬ 
fuse, Ave Avill go alone.” 

“ With you. Jack, but not Avith Mr. Mulford. I cannot de¬ 
sert my aunt, nor can I quit the SAvash alone in company Avith 
her mate. As for Spike, I despise him too much to fear him. 
He must soon go into port somewhere, and at the first place 


JACK TIER. 


325 


where he touches we shall quit him. He dare not detain us— 
nay, he cannot —and I do not fear him. We shall save Harry, 
but I shall remain with my aunt.” 

“We’ll see. Miss Rose, we’ll see,” said Tier, smiling. “Per¬ 
haps a handsome young man, like Mr. Mulford, will have better 
luck in persuading you than an old fellow like me. If he 
should fail, ’twill be his own fault.” 

So thought Jack Tier, judging of women as he had found 
them, but so did not think Rose Budd. The conversation ended 
here, however, each keeping in view its purport, and the serious 
business that was before them. 

The duty of the vessel went on as usual.’ The night promised 
to be clouded, but not very dark, as there was a moon. When 
Spike ordered the anchor-watches, he had great care to spare 
his crew as much as possible, for the next day was likely to 
be one of great toil to them. He intended to get the schooner 
up again, if possible; and though he might not actually pump 
her out so as to cause her to float, enough water was to be re¬ 
moved to enable him to get at the doubloons. The situation 
of the bread-locker was known, and as soon as the cabin was 
sufficiently freed from water to enable one to move about in it. 
Spike did not doubt his being able to get at the gold. With 
his resources and ingenuity, the matter in his own mind was 
reduced to one of toil and time. Eight-and-forty hours, and 
some hard labor, he doubted not would effect all he cared for. 

In setting the anchor-watches for the night, therefore, Stephen 
Spike bethought him as much of the morrow as of the present 
moment. Hon Juan offered to remain on deck until midnight, 
and as he was as capable of giving an alarm as any one else, 
the offer was accepted. Josh and Simon were to succeed the 
Mexican, and to hold the look-out for two hours, when Jack 
was to relieve them, and to continue on deck until light re¬ 
turned, when he was to give the captain a call. This arrange¬ 
ment made. Tier turned in at once, desiring the cook to call 
him half an hour before the proper period of his watch com- 


326 


JACK TIER. 


’ menced. That half hour Jack intended to employ in exercis¬ 
ing his eloquence in endeavoring to persuade either Josh or 
Simon to be of his party. By eight o’clock the vessel lay in a 
profound quiet, Senor Montefalderon pacing the quarter-deck 
alone, while the deep breathing of Spike was to be heard is¬ 
suing through the open window of his stateroom; a window 
which, it may be well to say to the uninitiated, opened in-board, 
or towards the deck, and not out-board, or towards the sea. 

For four solitary hours did the Mexican pace the deck of the 
stranger, resting himself for a few minutes at a time only, when 
wearied with walking. Does the reader fancy that a man so 
situated had not plenty of occupation for his thoughts ? Don 
Juan Montefalderon was a soldier and a gallant cavalier; and 
love of country had alone induced him to engage in his present 
duties. Not that patriotism which looks to political preferment 
through a popularity purchased by the vulgar acclamation 
which attends success in arms, even when undeserved, or that 
patriotism which induces men of fallen characters to endeavor 
to retrieve former offences by the shortest and most reckless 
mode, or that patriotism which shouts “ our country right or 
wrong,” regardless alike of God and his eternal laws, that are 
never to be forgotten with impunity; but the patriotism which 
would defend his home and fireside, his altars and the graves 
of his fathers, from the ruthless steps of the invader. We shall 
not pretend to say how far this gentleman entered into the 
merits of the quarrel between the two republics, which no arts 
of European jealousy can ever conceal from the judgment of 
truth, for, with him, matters had gone beyond the point where 
men feel the necessity of reasoning, and when, perhaps, if such 
a condition of the mind is ever to be defended, he found his 
perfect justification in feeling. He had travelled, and knew 
life by observation, and not through traditions and books. He 
had never believed, therefore, that his countrymen could march 
to Washington, or even to the Sabine; but he had hoped for 
better things than had since occurred. The warlike qualities 


JACK TIER. 


327 


of the Americans of the North, as he was accustomed to call 
those who term themselves, par excellence^ Americans, a name 
they are fated to retain, and to raise high on the scale of na¬ 
tional power and national pre-eminence, unless they fall by 
their own hands, had taken him by surprise, as they have taken 
all but those who knew the country w^ell, and who understood 
its people. Little had he imagined that the small, widely-spread 
body of regulars, that figured in the blue books, almanacs, and 
army-registers of America, as some six or seven thousand men, 
scattered along frontiers of a thousand leagues in extent, could, 
at the beck of the government, swell into legions of invaders, 
men able to carry war to the capitals of his own States, thou¬ 
sands of miles from their own doors, and formidable alike for 
their energy, their bravery, their readiness in the use of arms, 
and their numbers. He saw what is perhaps justly called the 
boasting of the American character, vindicated by their ex¬ 
ploits ; and marches, conquests, and victories that, if sober truth 
were alone to cover the pages of history, would far outdo in 
real labor and danger the boasted passage of the Alps under 
Napoleon, and the exploits that succeeded it. 

Don Juan Montefalderon was a grave and thoughtful man, of 
pure Iberian blood. He might have had about him a little of 
the exaltation of the Spanish character; the overflowings of a 
generous chivalry at the bottom; and, under its influence, he 
may have set too high an estimate on Mexico and her sons, 
but he was not one to shut his eyes to the truth. He saw 
plainly that the northern neighbors of his country were a race 
formidable and enterprising, and that of all the calumnies that 
had been heaped upon them by rivalries and European super¬ 
ciliousness, that of their not being military by temperament 
was, perhaps, the most absurd of all. On the contrary, he had 
himself, though anticipating evil, been astounded by the sud¬ 
denness and magnitude of their conquests, which in a few short 
months after the breaking out of hostilities, had overrun regions 
larger in extent than many ancient empires. All this had been 


328 


JACK TIER. 


done, too, not by disorderly and barbarous liordes, seeking in 
other lands the abundance that was wanting at home ; but with 
system and regularity, by men who had turned the ploughshare 
into the sword for the occasion, quitting abundance to encounter 
fatigue, famine, and danger. In a word, the Senor Montefal- 
Meron saw all the evils that environed his own land, and fore¬ 
saw others, of a still graver character, that menaced the future. 
On matters such as these did he brood in his walk, and bitter 
did he find the minutes of that sad and lonely watch. Although 
a Mexican, he could feel; although an avowed foe of this good 
republic of ours, he had his principles, his affections, and his 
sense of right. Whatever may be the merits of the quarrel, 
and we are not disposed to deny that our provocation has been 
great, a sense of right should teach every man that what may 
be patriotic in an American, would not be exactly the same 
thing in a Mexican, and that we ought to respect in others 
sentiments that are so much vaunted among ourselves. Mid¬ 
night at length arrived, and, calling the cook and steward, the 
unhappy gentleman was relieved, and went to his berth to 
dream, in sorrow, over the same pictures of national misfortunes, 
on which, while waking, he had brooded in such deep melancholy. 

The watch of Josh and Simon was tranquil, meeting with no 
interruption until it was time to summon Jack. One thing 
these men had done, however, that was of some moment to 
Tier, under a pledge given by Josh, and which had been taken 
in return for a dollar in hand. They had managed to haul the 
lighthouse boat alongside, from its position astern, and this so 
noiselessly as not to give the alarm to any one. There it lay, 
when Jack appeared, ready at the main-rigging, to receive him 
at any moment he might choose to enter it. 

A few minutes after Jack appeared on deck. Rose and Biddy 
came stealthily out of the cabin, the latter carrying a basket 
filled with bread and broken meat, and not wanting in sundry 
little delicacies, such as woman’s hands prepare, and in this in¬ 
stance, woman’s tenderness had provided. The whole party 


JACK TIER. 


329 


met at the galley, a place so far removed from the staterooms 
aft as to be out of ear-shot. Here Jack renewed his endeavors 
to persuade either Josh or Simon to go in the boat, but with¬ 
out success. The negroes had talked the matter over in their 
watch, and had come to the conclusion the enterprise was too 
hazardous. 

“I tell you. Jack, you doesn’t know Cap’in Spike as well as 
I does,” Josh said, in continuance of the discourse. “No, you 
doesn’t know him at all as well as I does. If he finds out that 
anybody has quit dis brig dis werry night, woeful wdll come! 
It no good to try to run; I run t’ree time; an’ Simon here run 
twice. What good it all do? We got cotched, and here we 
is, just as fast as ever. I knows Cap’in Spike, and doesn’t want 
to fall in athwart his hawse any more.” 

. “ Y-e-s, dat my judgment too,” put in the cook. “ We wishes 

you well, Jack, and w'e wishes Miss Rose well, and Mr. Mulford 
well, but we can’t, no how, run ath’art hawse, as Josh says. 
Dat is my judgment, too.” 

“Well, if your minds are made up to this, my darkies, I 
s’pose there’ll be no changing them,” said Jack. •“At all 
ewents, you’ll lend us a hand, by answering any hail that may 
come from aft, in my watch, and in keepin’ our secret. There’s 
another thing you can do for us, which may be of sarvice. 
Should Captain Spike miss the boat, and lay any trap to catch 
us, you can just light this here bit of lantern and hang it over 
the brig’s bows, where he’ll not be likely to see it, that we may 
know matters are going wrong, and give the craft a wide berth.” 

“ Sartain,” said Josh, who entered heartily into the affair, so 
far as good wishes for its success were concerned, at the very 
moment when he had a most salutary care of his own back. 
“Sartain; we do all dat, and no t’ank asked. It no great 
matter to answer a hail, or to light a lantern and sling him 
over the bow^s; and if Captain Spike want to know who did it, 
let him find out.” 

Here both negroes laughed heartily, manifesting so little care 


330 


JACK TIER. 


to suppress their mirth, that Rose trembled lest their noise 
should awaken Spike. Accustomed sounds, however, seldom 
produce this effect on the ears of the sleeper, and the heavy 
breathing from the stateroom succeeded the merriment of the 
blacks, as soon as the latter ceased. Jack now announced his 
readiness to depart. Some little care and management were 
necessary to get into the boat noiselessly, more especially with 
Biddy. It was done, however, with the assistance of the blacks, 
who cast off the painter, when Jack gave the boat a shove to 
clear the brig, and suffered it to drift astern for a considerable 
distance before he ventured to cast loose the sail. 

“ I know Spike well,” said Jack, in answer to a remonstrance 
from the impatient Rose concerning his delay: “a single flap 
of that canvas would wake him up, with the brig anchored, 
while he would sleep through a salute of heavy guns if it came 
in regular course. Quick ears has old Stephen, and it’s best to 
humor them. In a minute more we’ll set our canvas and be 
off.” 

All was done as Jack desired, and the boat got away from 
the bri# unheard and undetected. It was blowing a good 
breeze, and Jack Tier had no sooner got the sail on the boat, 
than away it started at a speed that would have soon distanced 
Spike in his yawl, and with his best oarsmen. The main point 
was to keep the course, though the direction of the wind was 
a great assistant. By keeping the wind abeam. Jack thought 
he should be going towards the rock of Mulford. In one hour, 
or even in less time, he expected to reach it, and he was guided 
by time, in his calculations, as much as by any other criterion. 
Previously to quitting the brig, he had gone up a few ratlins 
of the fore-rigging to take the bearings of the fire on Mulford’s 
rock, but the light was no longer visible. As no star was to 
be seen, the course was a little vague, but Jack was navigator 
enough to understand that by keeping on the weather side of 
the channel he was in the right road, and that his great danger 
of missing his object was in overrunning it. 


JACK TIER. 


331 


So much of the reef was above water, that it was not diffi¬ 
cult to steer a boat along its margin. The darkness, to be 
sure, rendered it a little uncertain how near they were running 
to the rocks, but, on the whole. Jack assured Kose he had no 
great difficulty in getting along. 

“ These trades are almost as good as compasses,” he said, 
“ and the rocks are better, if we can keep close aboard them 
without going on to them. I do not know the exact distance 
of the spot we seek from the brig, but I judged it to be about 
two leagues, as I looked at it from aloft. Now, this boat will 
travel them two leagues in an hour, with this breeze and in 
smooth water.” 

“ I wish you had seen the fire again before we left the brig,” 
said Rose, too anxious for the result not to feel uneasiness on 
some account or other. 

“ The mate is asleep, and the fire has burned down; that’s 
the explanation. Besides, fuel is not too plenty on a place 
like that Mr. Mulford inhabits just now. As we get near the 
spot, I shall look out for embers, which may sarve as a light¬ 
house, or beacon, to guide us into port.” 

“ Mr. Mulford will be charmed to see us, now that we take 
him wather !” exclaimed Biddy. “ Wather is a blessed thing, 
and it’s hard will be the heart that does not fale gratitude for 
a plenty of swate wather.” 

“ The maty has plenty of food and water where he is,” said 
Jack. “ I’ll answer for both them sarcumstances. I saw him 
turn a turtle as plain as if I had been at his elbow, and I saw 
him drinking at a hole in the rock, as heartily as a boy ever 
pulled at a gimlet-hole in a molasses hogshead.” 

“ But the distance was so great. Jack, I should hardly think 
you could have distinguished objects so small.” 

“ I went by the motions altogether. I saw the man, and I 
saw the movements, and I knowed what the last meant. It’s 
true I couldn’t swear to the turtle, though I saw something on 
the rock that I knowed, by the way in which it was handled, 


332 


JACK TIER. 


must be a turtle. Then I saw the mate kneel, and put his 
head low, and then I knowed he was drinking.” 

“ Perhaps he prayed,” said Rose, solemnly. 

“ Not he. Sailors isn’t so apt to pray. Miss Rose; not as 
apt as they ought to be. Women for prayers, and men for 
work. Mr. Mulford is no worse than many others, but I doubt 
if he be much given to that'"’ 

To this Rose made no answer, but Biddy took the matter 
up, and, as the boat went briskly ahead, she pursued the 
subject.” 

“ Then more is the shame for him,” said the Irish woman; 
“ and Miss Rose, and Missus, and even I prayin’ for him, all as 
if he was our own brudder. It’s seldom I ask any thing for a 
heretic, but I could not forget a fine young man like Mr. Mul¬ 
ford, and Miss Rose so partial to him, and he in so bad a way. 
He ought to be ashamed to make his brags that he is too proud 
to pray.” 

“ Harry has made no such wicked boast,” put in Rose, 
mildly; “ nor do we know that he has not prayed for us, as 
well as for himself. It may all be a mistake of Jack’s, you 
know.” 

“ Yes” added Jack, coolly, “ it may be a mistake, a’ter all, 
for I was lookin’ at the maty six miles off, and through a spy¬ 
glass. No one can be sure of any thing at such a distance. 
So overlook the matter, my good Biddy, and carry Mr. Mulford 
the nice things you’ve mustered in that basket, all the same as 
if he was pope.” 

“This is a‘subject we had better drop,” Rose quietly ob¬ 
served. 

“ Any thing to oblige you. Miss Rose, though religion is a 
matter it would do me no harm to talk about once and awhile. 
It’s many a long year since I’ve had time and opportunity to 
bring my thoughts to dwell on holy things. Ever since I left 
my mother’s side, I’ve been a wanderer in my mind, as much 
as in my body.” 


JACK TIER. 


333 


“ Poor Jack! I uiiderstaiicl and feel for your sufferings; but 
a better time Avill come, when you may return to the habits of 
your youth, and to the observances of your Church.” 

“ I don’t know that. Miss Rose; I don’t know that,” answer¬ 
ed Tier, placing the elbow of his short arm on the seemingly 
shorter leg, and bending his head so low as to lean his face on 
the palm of the hand, an attitude in which he appeared to be 
suffering keenly through his recollections. “ Childhood and 
innocence never come back to us in this world. What the 
grave may do, we shall all learn in time.” 

“ Innocence can return to all with repentance. Jack; and 
the heart that prompts you to do acts as generous as this you 
are now engaged in, must contain some good seed yet.” 

“ If Jack will go to a praste and just confess, when he can 
find a father, it will do his sowl good,” said Biddy, who was 
touched by the mental suffering of the strange little being at 
her side. 

But the necessity of managing the boat soon compelled its 
coxswain to raise his head, and to attend to his duty. The 
wind sometimes came in puffs, and at such moments Jack saw 
that the large sail of the lighthouse boat required watching, a 
circumstance that induced him to shake off his melancholy, 
and give his mind more exclusively to the business before 
him. 

As for Rose, she sympathized deeply with Jack Tier, for she 
knew his history, his origin, the story of his youth, and the 
well-grounded causes of his contrition and regrets. From her. 
Jack had concealed nothing, the gentle commiseration of one 
like Rose being a balm to w^ounds that had bled for long and 
bitter years. The great poet of our language, and the greatest 
that ever lived, perhaps, short of the inspired writers of the 
Old Testament, and old Homer and Dante, has well reminded 
us that the “ little beetle,” in yielding its breath, can “ feel a 
pang as great as when a giant dies.” Thus is it, too, in morals. 
Abasement, and misery, and poverty, and sin, may, and all do. 


334 


JACK TIER. 


contribute to lower the tone of our moral existence; but the 
principle that has been planted by nature, can be eradicated 
by nature only. It exists as long as we exist; and if dormant 
for a time, under the pressure of circumstances, it merely lies, in 
the moral system, like the acorn, or the chestnut, in the ground, 
waiting its time and season to sprout, and bud, and blossom. 
Should that time never arrive, it is not because the seed is 
not there, but because it is neglected. Thus was it with the 
singular being of whose feelings we have just spoken. The 
germ of goodness had been implanted early in him, and was 
nursed with tenderness and care, until, self-willed, and governed 
by passion, he had thrown off the connections of youth and 
childhood, to connect himself with Spike—a connection that 
had left him what he was. Before closing our legend, we shall 
have occasion to explain it. 

“We have run our hour. Miss Rose,” resumed Jack, break¬ 
ing a continued silence, during which the boat had passed 
through a long line of water; “ we have run our hour, and 
ought to be near the rock we are in search of. But the morn¬ 
ing is so dark that I fear we shall have difficulty in finding it. 
It will never do to run past it, and we must haul closer into 
the reef, and shorten sail, that we may be sartain to make no 
such mistake.” 

Rose begged her companion to omit no precaution, as it 
would be dreadful to fail in their search, after incurring so 
much risk in their own persons. 

“ Harry may be sleeping on the sea-weed of which you 
spoke,” she added, “and the danger of passing him will be 
much increased in such a case. What a gloomy and frightful 
spot is this, in which to abandon a human being ! I fear. Jack, 
that we have come faster than we supposed, and may already 
have passed the rock.” 

“ I hope not. Miss Rose—it seemed to me a good two leagues 
to the place where I saw him, and the boat is fast that will 
run two leagues in an hour.” 


JACK TIER. 


335 


“ We do not know tlie time, Jack, and are obliged to guess 
at that as well as at the distance. How very dark it is !” 

Dark, in one sense, it was not, though Rose’s apprehensions, 
doubtless, induced her to magnify every evil. The clouds cer¬ 
tainly lessened the light of the moon; but there was still 
enough of the last to enable one to see surrounding objects; 
and most especially to render distinct the character of the soli¬ 
tude that reigned over the place. 

The proximity of the reef, which formed a weather shore 
to the boat, prevented any thing like a swell on the water, 
notwithstanding the steadiness and strength of the breeze, which 
had now blown for near twenty-four hours. The same wind, 
in open water, would have raised sea enough to cause a ship 
to pitch, or roll; whereas the lighthouse boat, placed where 
she was, scarce rose and fell under the undulations of the chan¬ 
nel through which she was glancing. 

“ This is a good boat, and a fast boat too,” observed Jack 
Tier, after he had luffed up several minutes, in order to make 
sure of his proximity to the reef; “ and it might carry us all 
safe enough to Key West, or certainly back to the Dry Tortugas, 
was we inclined to try our hands at either.” 

“ I cannot quit my aunt,” said Rose quickly, “ so we will not 
even think of any such thing.” 

“ No, ’twould never do to abandon the missus,” said Biddy, 
“ and she on the wrack wid us, and falin’ the want of wather 
as much as ourselves.” 

“ We three have sartainly gone through much in com¬ 
pany,” returned Jack, “ and it ought to make us friends for 
life.” 

“ I trust it will. Jack; I hope, when we return to New York, 
to see you among us, anchored, as you would call it, for the 
rest of your days under my aunt’s roof, or under my own, should 
I ever have one.” 

“ No, Miss Rose, my business is with the Swash and her cap¬ 
tain. I shall stick by both, now I’ve found ’em again, until 


336 


JACK TIER. 


they once more desart me. A man’s duty is his duty, and a 
woman’s duty is her duty.” 

“You same to like the brig and her captain, Jack Tier,” ob¬ 
served Biddy, “ and there’s no use in gainsaying such a likin’. 
What will come to pass, must come to pass. Captain Spike is 
a mighty great sailor, anyway.” 

“He’s a willian !” muttered Jack. 

“ There!” cried Eose, almost breathless, “ there is a rock 
above the water, surely. Do not fly by it so swiftly. Jack, but 
let us stop and examine it.” 

“ There is a rock, sure enough, and a large piece it is,” an¬ 
swered Tier. “ We will go alongside of it, and see what it is 
made of. Biddy shall be boat-keeper, while you and I, Miss 
Rose, explore.” 

Jack had thrown the boat into the wind, and was shooting 
close alongside of the reef, even while speaking. The party 
found no difficulty in landing; the margin of the rock admit¬ 
ting the boat fb lie close alongside of it, and its surface being 
even and dry. Jack had brailed the sail, and he brought the 
painter ashore, and fastened it securely to a fragment of stone, 
that made a very sufficient anchor. In addition to this precau¬ 
tion, a lazy painter was put into Biddy’s hands, and she was 
directed not to let go of it while her companions were absent. 
These arrangements concluded. Rose and Jack commenced a 
hurried examination of the spot. 

A few minutes sufficed to give our adventurers a tolerably 
accurate notion of the general features of the place on which 
they had landed. It was a considerable portion of the reef that 
was usually above water, and Avhich had even some fragments 
of soil, or sand, on which was a stinted growth of bushes. Of 
these last, however, there were very few, nor were there many 
spots of the sand. Drift-wood and sea-weed were lodged in 
considerable quantities about its margin, and, in places, piles 
of both had been tossed upon the rock itself, by the billows of 
former gales of wind. Nor was it long before Jack discovered 


JACK TIER. 


337 


a turtle that had been up to a hillock of sand, probably to de- 
* posit its eggs. There was enough of the sportsman in Jack, 
notwithstanding the business he was on, to turn this animal; 
though with what object, he might have been puzzled himself to 
say. This exploit effected, Jack followed Rose as fast as his short 
legs would permit, our heroine pressing forward eagerly, though 
almost without hope, in order to ascertain if Mulford were there. 

“ I am afraid this is not the rock,” said Rose, nearly breath¬ 
less with her own haste, when Jack had overtaken her. “I see 
nothing of him, and we have passed over most of the place.” 

“Very true. Miss Rose,” answered her companion, who was 
in good-humor on account of his capture of the turtle ; “ but 
there are other rocks besides this. Ha! what was that, yon¬ 
der,” pointing with a finger,“ here, more towards the brig. As 
I’m a sinner, there was a flashing, as of Are.” 

“ If a fire, it must be that made by Harry. Let us go to the 
spot at once.” 

Jack led the way, and, sure enough, he soon reached a place 
where the embers of what had been a considerable body of fire, 
were smouldering on the rock. The wind had probably caused 
some brand to kindle momentarily, which was the object that 
had caught Tier’s eye. No doubt any longer remained of their 
having found the very place where the mate had cooked his 
supper, and lighted his beacon, though he himself was not 
near it. Around these embers were all the signs of Mulford’s 
having made the meal, of which Jack had seen the prepara¬ 
tions. A portion of the turtle, much the greater part of it, 
indeed, lay in its shell; and piles of wood and sea-weed, both 
dry, had been placed at hand, ready for use. A ship’s topgal¬ 
lant-yard, with most of its rope attached, lay with a charred 
end near the fire, or where the fire had been, the wood having 
burned until the flames went out for want of contact with other 
fuel. There were many pieces of boards of pitch-pine in the 
adjacent heap, and two or three beautiful planks of the same 
wood, entire. In short, from the character and quantity of the 

15 


338 


JACK TIER. 


materials of this nature that had thus been heaped together, 
Jack gave it as his opinion that some vessel, freighted with 
lumber, had been wrecked to windward, and that the adjacent 
rocks had been receiving the tribute of her cargo. Wrecks 
are of very, very frequent occurrence on the Florida Reef; and 
there are always moments when such gleanings are to be made 
in some part of it or other. 

“ I see no better way to give a call to the mate, Miss Rose, 
than to throw some of this dry weed and some of this lumber 
on the fire,” said Jack, after he had rummaged about the place 
sufficiently to become master of its condition. “ There is 
plenty of ammunition, and here goes for a broadside.” 

Jack had no great difficulty in effecting his object. In a 
few minutes he succeeded in obtaining a flame, and then he 
fed it with such fragments of the brands and boards as were 
best adapted to his purpose. The flames extended gradually, 
and by the time Tier had dragged the topgallant-yard over 
the pile, and placed several planks, on their edges, alongside 
of it, the whole was ready to burst into a blaze. The light 
was shed athwart the rock for a long distance, and the whole 
place, which was lately so gloomy and obscure, now became 
gay, under the bright radiance of a blazing fire. 

“There is a beacon-light that might almost be seen on 
board 1” said Jack, exulting in his success. “ If the mate is 
anywhere in this latitude, he will soon turn up.” 

“ I see nothing of him,” answered Rose, in a melancholy 
voice. “ Surely, surely. Jack, he cannot have left the rock just 
as we have come to rescue him !” 

Rose and her companion had turned their faces from the 
fire to look in an opposite direction in quest of him they sought. 
Unseen by them, a human form advanced swiftly towards the 
fire, from a point on its other side. It advanced nearer, then 
hesitated, afterwards rushed forward with a tread that caused 
the two to turn, and at the next moment. Rose was clasped to 
the heart of Mulford. 


JACK TIER. 


339 


CHAPTER XI. 

“ I might have pass’d that lovely cheek, 

Nor, perchance, my heart have left me; 

But the sensitive blush that came trembling there, 

Of my heart it forever bereft me. 

Who could blame had I loved that face. 

Ere my eyes could twice explore her; 

Yet it is for the fairy intelligence there. 

And her warm, warm heart, I adore her,*' 

Wolfe. 

The stories of tlie respective parties who had thus so 
strangely met on that barren and isolated rock, were soon told. 
Harry confirmed all of Jack’s statements as to his own pro¬ 
ceedings, and Rose had little more to say than to add how 
much her own affections had led her to risk in his behalf. In 
a word, ten minutes made each fully acquainted with the 
other’s movements. Then Tier considerately retired to the 
boat, under the pretence of minding it, and seeing every thing 
ready for a departure, but as much to allow the lovers the ten 
or fifteen minutes of uninterrupted discourse that they now 
enjoyed, as for any other reason. 

It was a strange scene that now offered on the rock. By 
this time the fire was burning not only brightly, but fiercely, 
shedding its bright light far and near. Under its most brilliant 
rays stood Harry and Rose, both smiling and happy, delighted 
in their meeting, and, for the moment, forgetful of all but their 
present felicity. Never, indeed, had Rose appeared more lovely 
than under these circumstances. Her face was radiant with 
those feelings which had so recently changed from despair to 
delight—a condition that is ever most propitious to beauty ; 
and charms that always appeared feminine and soft, now seemed 


340 


JACK TIER. 


elevated to a bright benignancy that might best be likened to 
our fancied images of angels. The mild, beaming, serene, and 
intelligent blue eyes, the cheek flushed with happiness, the 
smiles that came so easily, and were so replete with tenderness, 
and the rich hair, deranged by the breeze, and moistened by 
the air of the sea, each and all, perhaps, borrowed some ad¬ 
ditional lustre from the peculiar light under which they were 
exhibited. As for Harry, happiness had thrown all the disad¬ 
vantages of exposure, want of dress, and a face that had not 
felt the razor for six-and-thirty hours, into the background. 
When he left the wreck, he had cast aside his cap and his light 
summer jacket, in order that they might not encumber him in 
swimming, but both had been recovered when he returned with 
the boat to take off his friends. In his ordinary sea attire, then, 
he now stood, holding Rose’s two hands in front of the fire, every 
garment clean and white as the waters of the ocean could make 
them, but all betraying some of the signs of his recent trials. 
His fine countenance was full of the love he bore for the in¬ 
trepid and devoted girl who had risked so much in his behalf; 
and a painter might have wished to preserve the expression of 
ardent, manly admiration which glowed in his face, answering 
to the gentle sympathy and womanly tenderness it met in that 
of Rose. 

The background of this picture was the wide, even surface 
of the coral reef, with its exterior setting of the dark and 
gloomy sea. On the side of the channel, however, appeared 
the boat, already winded, with Biddy still on the rock, look¬ 
ing kindly at the lovers by the fire, while Jack was holding 
the painter, beginning to manifest a little impatience at the 
delay. 

They’ll stay there an hour, holding each other’s hands, 
and looking into each other’s faces,” half grumbled the little, 
rotund, assistant-steward, anxious to be on his way back to' 
the brig, “ unless a body gives ’em a call. Captain Spike will 
be in no very good-humor to receive you and me on board 


JACK T I E K . 


341 


ag’in, if he should find out ^vhat sort of a trip we’ve been 
making hereaway.” 

“Let ’em alone—let ’em alone, Jacky,” answered the good- 
natured and kind-hearted Irish woman. “ It’s happy they 
bees, jist now, and it does my eyes good to look at ’em.” 

“ Ay, they’re happy enough, now ; I only hope it may last.” 

“ Last! what should help its lasting ? Miss Rose is so good, 
and so handsome—and she’s a fortin’, too; and the mate so 
nice a young man. Think of the likes of them, Jack, wantin’ 
the blessed gift of wather, and all within one day and two 
nights. Sure it’s Providence that takes care of, and not we 
ourselves! Kings on their thrones isn’t as happy as them at 
this moment.” 

“Men’s willians!” growled Jack; “and more fools women 
for trustin’ ’em.” 

“Not sich a nice young man as our mate, Jacky; no, not 
lie. Now the mate of the ship I came from Liverpool in, this 
time ten years agone, he was a villain. He grudged us our 
potaties, and our own bread; and he grudged us every dhrap 
of swate wather that went into our mouths. Call him a vil¬ 
lain, if you will. Jack; but niver call the likes of Mr. Mulford 
by so hard a name.” 

“ I wish him well, and nothing else; and for that very rea¬ 
son must put a stop to his looking so fondly into that young 
woman’s face. Time won’t stand still, Biddy, to suit the wishes 
of lovers; and Stephen Spike is a man not to be trifled with. 
Halloo, there, maty! It’s high time to think of getting under 
way.” 

At this summons both Harry and Rose started, becoming 
aware of the precious moments they were losing. Carrying a 
large portion of the turtle, the former moved towards the 
craft, in which all were seated in less than three minutes, with 
the sail loose, and the boat in motion. For a few moments 
the mate was so much occupied with Rose, that he did not 
advert to the course; but one of his experience could not long 


342 


JACK TIER. 


be misled on such a point, and he turned suddenly to Tier, 
who was steering, to remonstrate. 

“How’s this. Jack!” cried Mulford; “you’ve got the boat’s 
head the wrong way.” 

“ Not I, sir. She’s heading for the brig as straight as she 
can go. This wind favors us on both legs; and it’s lucky it 
does, for ’twill be hard on upon daylight afore we are along¬ 
side of her. You’ll want half an hour of dark, at the very 
least, to get a good start of the Swash, in case she makes sail 
a’ter you.” 

“ Straight for the brig I—what have we to do with the brig? 
Our course is for Key West, unless it might be better to run 
down before the wind to the Dry Tortugas again, and look for 
the sloop-of-war. Duty, and perhaps my own safety, tells me 
to let Captain Mull know what Spike is about with the Swash; 
'and I shall not hesitate a moment about doing it, after all that 
has passed. Give me the helm. Jack, and let us ware short 
round on our heel.” 

“Never, master maty—never. I must go back to the brig. 
Miss Rose, there, knows that my business is with Stephen 
Spike, and with him only.” 

“ And I must return to my aunt, Harry,” put in Rose, her¬ 
self. “ It would never do for me to desert my aunt, you know.” 

“ And I have been taken from that rock, to be given up to 
the tender mercies of Spike again ?” 

This was said rather in surprise, than in a complaining way; 
and it at once induced Rose to tell the young man the whole 
of their project. 

“ Never, Harry, never,” she said firmly. “ It is our intention 
to return to the brig ourselves, and let you escape in the boat 
afterwards. Jack Tier is of opinion this can be done without 
much risk, if we use proper caution and do not lose too much 
time. On no account would I consent to place you in the 
hands of Spike again—death would be preferable to that, 
Harry!” 


JACK TIER. 


343 


“ And on no account can or will I consent to place you 
again in the hands of Spike, Rose,” answered the young man. 
“Now that we know his intentions, such an act would be 
almost impious.” 

“Remember my aunt, dear Harry. What would be her 
situation in the morning, when she found herself deserted by 
her niece and Biddy—by me, whom she has nursed and watch¬ 
ed from childhood, and whom she loves so well ?” 

“ I shall not deny your obligations to your aunt. Rose, and 
your duty to her under ordinary circumstances. But these 
are not ordinary circumstances; and it would be courting the 
direst misfortunes, nay, almost braving Providence, to place 
yourself in the hands of that scoundrel again, now that you 
are clear of them.” 

“ Spike’s a willian!” muttered Jack. 

“ And my desartin’ the missus would be a sin that no praste 
would overlook aisily,” put in Biddy. “ ^ATien Miss Rose told 
me of this v’y’ge that she meant to make in the boat wid Jack 
Tier, I asked to come along, that I might take care of her, and 
see that there was plenty of wather; but ill-luck befall me if I 
would have t’ought of sich a thing, and the missus desarted.” 

“We can then run alongside of the brig, and put Biddy and 
Jack on board of her,” said Mulford, reflecting a moment on 
what had just been said, “ when you and I can make the best 
of our way to Key West, where the means of sending govern¬ 
ment vessels out after the Swash will soon offer. In this way 
we can not only get our friends out of the lion’s jaws, but keep 
out of them ourselves.” 

“ Reflect a moment, Harry,” said Rose in a low voice, but 
not without tenderness in its tones; “ it would not do for me 
to go off alone with you in this boat.” 

“ Not when you have confessed your willingness to go 
over the wide world with me. Rose—with me, and with me 
only ?” 

“Not even then,-Harry. I know you will think better of 


344 


JACK TIER. 


this, when your generous nature has time to reason with your 
heart, on my account.” 

“ I can only answer in your own words. Rose—never. If 
you return to the Swash, I shall go on board with you, and 
throw defiance into the very teeth of Spike. I know the men 
do not dislike me, and, perhaps, assisted by Senor Montefalde- 
ron, and a few friends among the people, I can muster a force 
that will prevent my being thrown into the sea.” 

Rose burst into tears, and then succeeded many minutes, 
during which Mulford was endeavoring, with manly tender¬ 
ness, to soothe her. As soon as our heroine recovered her 
self-command, she began to discuss the matter at issue between 
them more coolly. For half an hour every thing was urged 
by each that feeling, affection, delicacy, or distrust of Spike 
could well urge, and Mulford was slowly getting the best of the 
argument, as well he might, the truth being mostly on his side. 
Rose was bewildered, feally feeling a strong reluctance to quit 
her aunt, even with so justifiable a motive, but principally 
shrinking from the appearance of going off alone in a boat, 
and almost in the open sea, with Mulford. Had she loved 
Harry less, her scruples might not have been so active, but 
the consciousness of the strength of her attachment, as well as 
her fixed intention to become his wife the moment it was in 
her power to give him her hand with the decencies of her sex, 
contributed strangely to prevent her yielding to the young 
man’s reasoning. On the subject of the aunt, the mate made 
out so good a case, that it was apparent to all in the boat 
Rose would have to abandon that ground of refusal. Spike 
had no object to gain by ill-treating Mrs. Budd; and the 
probability certainly was that he would get rid of her as soon 
as he could, and in the most easy manner. This was so ap¬ 
parent to all, that Harry had little difficulty in getting Rose to 
assent to its probability. But there remained the reluctance 
to go off alone with the mate in a boat. This part of the sub¬ 
ject was more difiicult to manage than the other; and Mul- 


JACK TIER. 


345 


ford betrayed as much by the awkwardness with which he 
managed it. At length the discussion was brought to a close 
by Jack Tier suddenly saying— 

“ Yonder is the brig; and we are heading for her as straight 
as if she was the pole, and the keel of this boat was a compass. 
I see how it is, Miss Rose, and a’ter all, I must give in. I sup¬ 
pose some other opportunity will offer for me to get on board 
of the brig ag’in, and I’ll trust to that. If you won’t go off 
with the mate alone, I suppose you’ll not refuse to go off in 
my company.” 

“ Will you accompany us. Jack? This is more than I had 
hoped for! Yes, Harry, if Jack Tier will be of the party, I 
will trust my aunt to Biddy, and go with you to Key West, in 
order to escape from Spike.” 

This was said so rapidly, and so unexpectedly, as to take 
Mulford completely by surprise. Scarce believing what he 
heard, the young man was disposed, at first, to feel hurt, though 
a moment’s reflection showed him that he ought to rejoice in 
the result, let the cause be what it might. 

“ More than I had hoped for I” he could not refrain from 
repeating, a little bitterly; “ is Jack Tier, then, of so much 
importance, that his company is thought preferable to mine 1” 

“ Hush, Harry 1” said Rose, laying her hand on Mulford’s 
arm, by way of strengthening her appeal. “ Do not say that. 
You are ignorant of circumstances; at another time you shall 
know them, but not now. Let it be enough for the present, 
that I promise to accompany you if Jack will be of our 
party.” 

“ Ay, ay. Miss Rose, I will be of the party, seeing there is 
no other way of getting the lamb out of the jaws of the wolf. 
A’ter all, it may be the wisest thing I can do, though back to 
the Swash I must and will come, powder or no powder, trea¬ 
son or no treason, at the first opportunity. Yes, my business 
is with the Molly, and to the Molly I shall return. It’s lucky. 
Miss Rose, since you have made up your mind to ship for this 

15 '^ 


846 


JACK TIER. 


new cruise, that I bethought me of telling Biddy to make up 
a bundle of duds for you. This carpet-bag has a change or 
two in it, and all owing to my forethought. Your woman 
said, ‘ Miss Rose will come back wid us. Jack, and what’s the 
use of rumplin’ the clothes for a few hours’ sail in the boat 
but I knew womankind better, and foreseed that if master 
mate fell in alongside of you ag’in, you would not be apt to 
part company very soon.” 

“ I thank you. Jack, for the provision made for my comfort; 
though some money would have added to it materially. My 
purse has a little gold in it, but a very little, and I fear you 
are not much better off, Harry. It will be awkward to find 
ourselves in Key West penniless.” 

“We shall not be quite that. I left the brig absolutely 
without a cent, but foreseeing that necessity might make them 
of use, I borrowed half a dozen of the doubloons from the bag 
of Senor Montefalderon, and fortunately, they are still in my 
pocket. All I am worth in the world is in a bag of half¬ 
eagles, rather more than a hundred altogether, which I left in 
my chest, in my own stateroom aboard the brig.” 

“You’ll find that in the carpet-bag, too, master mate,” said 
Jack, coolly. 

“Find what, man—not my money, surely?” 

“ Ay, every piece of it. Spike broke into your chest this 
a’tcrnoon, and made me hold the tools while he was doing it. 
He found the bag, and overhauled it—a hundred and seven 
half, eleven quarter, and one full-grown eagle, was the count. 
When he had done the job, he put all back ag’in, a’ter giving 
me the full-grown eagle for my share of the plunder, and told 
me to say nothing of what I had seen. I did say nothing, but 
I did a good bit of work, for, while he was at supper, I con- 
fiserated that bag, as they call it—and you will find it there 
among Miss Rose’s clothes, with the full-grown gentleman back 
in his nest ag’in.” 

“ This is being not only honest. Tier,” cried Mulford, hearti- 


JACK TIER. 


841 


ly, “ but tliouglitfiil. One half that money shall be yours for 
this act.” 

“I thank’e, sir; but I’ll not touch a cent of it. It came 
hard, I know, Mr. Mulford; for my own hands have smarted 
too much with tar, not to know that the seaman ‘ earns his 
money like the horse.’ ” 

“ Still it would not be ‘ spending it like an ass,’ Jack, to give 
you a portion of mine. But there will be other opportunities 
to talk of this. It is a sign of returning to the concerns of 
life, Rose, that money begins to be of interest to us. How 
little did we think of the doubloons, or half-eagles, a few hours 
since, when on the wreck!” 

“It was wather that we fought of then,” put in Biddy. 
“Goold is good in a market, or in a town, or to send back to 
Ireland, to help a body’s aged fader or mudder in comfort wid; 
but wather is the blessed thing on a wrack!” 

“ The brig is coming quite plainly into view, and you had 
better give me the helm. Jack. It is time to bethink us of the 
manner of approaching her, and how we are to proceed when 
alongside.” 

This was so obviously true, that everybody felt disposed to 
forget all other matters, in order to conduct the proceedings 
of the next twenty minutes with the necessary prudence and 
caution. When Mulford first took the helm, the brig was just 
coming clearly into view, though still looking a little misty 
and distant. She might then have been half a league distant, 
and would not have been visible at all by that light, but for 
the circumstance that she had no background to swallow up 
her outlines. Drawn against clouds, above which the rays of 
the moon were shed, her tracery was to be discerned, however, 
and, minute by minute, it was getting to be more and more 
distinct, until it was now so plainly to be seen as to admonish 
the mate of the necessity of preparation in the manner men¬ 
tioned. 

Tier now communicated to the mate his own proposed man- 


348 


JACK TIER. 


ner of proceeding. The brig tended to the trades, the tides 
having very little influence on her, in the bight of the reef 
where she lay. As the wind stood at about east-southeast, 
the brig’s stern pointed to about west-northwest, while the 
boat was coming down the passage from a direction nearly 
north from her, having, as a matter of course, the wind just 
free enough to lay her course. Jack’s plan was to pass the 
brig to windward, and having got well on her bow, to brail 
the sail, and drift down upon her, expecting to fall in along¬ 
side, abreast of the fore-chains, into which he had intended to 
help Biddy, and to ascend himself, when he supposed that 
Mulford w'ould again make sail, and carry off" his mistress. 
To this scheme the mate objected that it was awkward, and a 
little lubberly. He substituted one in its place that dififered in 
seamanship, and which was altogether better. Instead of pass¬ 
ing to Avindward, Mulford suggested the expediency of ap¬ 
proaching to leeward, and of coming alongside under the open 
boAvport, letting the sheet fly and brailing the sail, when the 
boat should be near enough to carry her to the point of desti¬ 
nation without further assistance from her canvas. 

Jack Tier took his officer’s improvement on his own plan in 
perfect good part, readily and cheerfully expressing his will¬ 
ingness to aid the execution of it all that lay in his power. As 
the boat sailed unusually well, there was barely time to explain 
to each individual his or her part in the approaching critical 
movements, ere the crisis itself drew near; then each of the 
party became silent and anxious, and events were regarded 
rather than words. 

It is scarcely necessary to say that Mulford sailed a boat 
well. He held the sheet in his hand, as the little craft came 
up under the lee-quarter of the brig, while Jack stood by the 
brail. The eyes of the mate glanced over the hull of the ves¬ 
sel to ascertain, if possible, who might be stirring; but not a 
sign of life could he detect on board her. This very silence 
made Mulford more distrustful and anxious, for he feared a 


JACK TIER. 


349 


trap was set for him. He expected to see the head of one of 
the blacks at least peering over the bulwarks, but nothing like 
a man was visible. It was too late to pause, however, and the 
sheet was slowly eased off. Jack hauling on the brail at the 
same time; the object being to prevent the sail’s flapping, and 
the sound reaching the ears of Spike. As Mulford used great 
caution, and had previously schooled Jack on the subject, this 
important point was successfully achieved. Then the mate 
put his helm down, and the boat shot up under the brig’s lee- 
bow. Jack was ready to lay hold of one of the bowsprit 
shrouds, and presently the boat was breasted up under the 
desired port, and secured in that position. Mulford quitted 
the stern-sheets, and cast a look in upon deck. Nothing was 
to be seen, though he heard the heavy breathing of the blacks, 
both of whom were sound asleep on a sail that they had spread 
on the forecastle. 

The mate whispered for Biddy to come to the port. This 
the Irishwoman did at once, having kissed Rose, and taken her 
leave of her previously. Tier also came to the port, through 
which he passed, getting on deck with a view to assist Biddy, 
who was awkward, almost as a matter of course, to pass through 
the same opening. He had just succeeded, when the whole 
party was startled, some of them almost petrified, indeed, by a 
hail from the quarter-deck, in the well-known, deep tones of 
Spike. 

“ For’ard, there ?” hailed the captain. Receiving no answer, 
he immediately repeated, in a shorter, quicker call, “Forecastle, 
there ?” 

“ Sir,” answered Jack Tier, who by this time had come to 
his senses. 

“ Who has the look-out on that forecastle ?” 

“ I have it, sir—I, Jack Tier. You know, sir, I was to have 
it from two ’till daylight.” 

“ Ay, ay, I remember now. How does the brig ride to her 
anchor ?” 


350 


JACK TIER. 


“ As steady as a churcli, sir. She’s had no more sheer the 
whole watch than if she was moored head and stern.” 

“ Does the wind stand as it did ?” 

“No change, sir. As dead a trade-wind as ever blowed.” 

“What hard breathing is that I hear for’ard ?” 

“ ’Tis the two niggers, sir. They’ve turned in on deck, and 
are napping it olf at the rate of six knots. There’s no keepin’ 
way with a nigger in snorin’.” 

“ I thought I heard loud Avhispering, too, but I suppose it 
was a sort of half dream. I’m often in that way, now-a-days. 
Jack!” 

“ Sir.” 

“ Go to the scuttle-butt and get me a pot of fresh water— 
my coppers are hot with hard thinking.” 

J ack did as ordered, and soon stood beneath the coach-house 
deck with Spike, who had come out of his stateroom, heated 
and uneasy at he knew not what. The captain drank a full 
pint of water at a single draught. 

“That’s refreshing,” he said, returning Jack the tin-pot, 
“ and I feel the cooler for it. How much does it want of day¬ 
light, Jack ?” 

“ Two hours, I think, sir. The order was passed to me to 
have all hands called as soon as it was broad day.” 

“ Ay, that is right. We must get our anchor and be off as 
soon as there is light to do it in. Doubloons may melt as well 
as flour, and are best cared for soon, when cared for at all.” 

“ I shall see and give the call as soon as it is day. I hope. 
Captain Spike, I can take the liberty of an old shipmate, how¬ 
ever, and say one thing to you, which is this—look out for 
the Poughkeepsie, which is very likely to be on your heels 
when you least expect her.” 

“ That’s your way of thinking, is it. Jack ? Well, I thank 
you, old one, for the hint, but have little fear of that craft. 
We’ve had our legs together, and I think the brig has the 
longest.” 


JACK TIER. 


.351 


As the captain said this, he gaped like a hound, and went 
into his stateroom. Jack lingered on the quarter-deck, wait¬ 
ing to hear him fairly in his berth, when he made a sign to 
Biddy, who had got as far aft as the galley, where she was 
secreted, to pass down into the cabin as silently as possible. 
In a minute or two more, he moved forward, singing in a low, 
cracked voice, as w'as often his practice, and slowly made his 
way to the forecastle. Mulford was just beginning to think 
the fellow had changed his mind, and meant to stick by the 
brig, when the little, rotund figure of the assistant-steward was 
seen passing through the port, and to drop noiselessly on a 
thwart. Jack then moved to the bow, and cast off the painter, 
the head of the boat slowly falling off under the pressure of 
the breeze on that part of her mast and sail which rose above 
the hull of the Swash. Almost at the same moment the mate 
let go the stern-fast, and the boat was free. 

It required some care to set the sail without the canvas 
flapping. It was done, however, before the boat fairly took 
the breeze, when all was safe. In half a minute the wind 
struck the sail, and away the little craft started, passing swiftly 
ahead of the brig. Soon as far enough off, Mulford put up 
his helm and wore short round, bringing the boat’s head to 
the northward, or in its proper direction ; after which they 
flew along before the wind, which seemed to be increasing in 
force, with a velocity that really appeared to defy pursuit. All 
this time the brig lay in its silence and solitude, .no one stirring 
on board her, and all, in fact, Biddy alone excepted, profoundly 
ignorant of what had just been passing alongside of her. Ten 
minutes of running off with a flowing sheet, caused the Swash 
to look indistinct and hazy again; in ten minutes more she Avas 
swallowed up, hull, spars, and all, in the gloom of night. 

Mulford and Rose now felt something like that security, 
Avithout the sense of Avhich, happiness itself is but an uneasy 
feeling, rendering the anticipations of evil the more painful by 
the magnitude of the stake. There they sat, now, in the stern- 


352 


JACK TIER. 


sheets by themselves, Jack Tier having placed himself near the 
bows of the boat, to look out for rocks, as well as to trim the 
craft. It was not long before Rose was leaning on Harry’s 
shoulder, and ere an hour was past, she had fallen into a sweet 
sleep in that attitude, the young man having carefully covered 
her person with a capacious shawl, the same that had been used 
on the wreck. As for Jack, he maintained his post in silence, 
sitting with his arms crossed, and the hands thrust into the 
breast of his jacket, sailor fashion, a picture of nautical vigi¬ 
lance. It was some time after Rose had fallen asleep, that this 
singular being spoke for the first time. 

“ Keep her aAvay a bit, maty,” he said, “ keep her away, 
half a point or so. She’s been travellin’ like a racer since we 
left the brig ; and yonder’s the first streak of day.” 

“ By the time we have been running,” observed Mulford, 
“ I should think we must be getting near the northern side 
of the reef.” 

“ All of that, sir, depend on it. Here’s a rock close aboard 
on us, to which Ave’re cornin’ fast—just off here, on our weather 
bow, that looks to me like the place where you landed a’ter 
that swim, and where we had stoAved ourselves Avhen Stephen 
Spike made us out, and gave chase.” 

“ It is surprising to me. Jack, that you should haA^e any fancy 
to stick by a man of Spike’s character. He is a precious ras¬ 
cal, as Ave all can see, now, and you are rather an honest sort 
of fellow.” 

“ Do you love the young Avoman there, that’s lying in your 
arms, as it might be, and whom you say you Avish to marry ?” 

“The question is a queer one, but it is easily ansAvered. 
More than my life. Jack.” 

“ Well, hoAV happens it that you succeed, when the Avorld has 
so many other young men Avho might please her as well as 
yourself?” 

“ It may be that no other loves her as Avell, and she has had 
the sagacity to discover it.” 


JACK TIER. 


353 


“ Quite likely. So it is with me and Stephen Spike. I 
fancy a man whom other folk despise and condemn. Why 
I stand by him is my own secret; but stand by him I do and 
will.” 

“ This is all very strange, after your conduct on the island, 
and your conduct to-night. I shall not disturb your secret, 
however. Jack, but leave you to enjoy it by yourself. Is this 
the rock of which you spoke, that we are now passing ?” 

“ The same; and there’s the spot in which we was stowed 
when they made us out from the brig; and hereaway, a cable’s 
length, more or less, the wreck of that Mexican craft must lie.” 

“ What is that rising above the water, thereaway. Jack; more 
on our weather beam ?” 

“ I see what you mean, sir ; it looks like a spar. By George! 
there’s two on ’em; and they do seem to be the schooner’s 
masts.” 

Sure enough ! a second look satisfied Mulford that two mast¬ 
heads were out of water, and that within a hundred yards of 
the place the boat was running past. Standing on a short dis¬ 
tance, or far enough to give himself room, the mate put his 
helm down, and tacked the boat. The flapping of the sail, and 
the little movement of shifting over the sheet, awoke Rose, who 
was immediately apprised of the discovery. As soon as round, 
the boat went glancing up to the spars, and presently was rid¬ 
ing by one. Jack Tier having caught hold of a topmast-shroud, 
when Mulford let fly his sheet again, and luffed short up to the 
spot. By this time the increasing light was sufficiently strong 
to render objects distinct, when near by, and no doubt remained 
any longer in the mind of Mulford about the two mast-heads 
being those of the unfortunate Mexican schooner. 

“ Well, of all I have ever seen, I’ve never see’d the like of 
this afore!” exclaimed Jack. “ When we left this here craft., 
sir, you’ll remember, she had almost turned turtle, laying over 
so far as to bring her upper coamings under water; now she 
stands right side up, as erect as if docked ! My navigation 


354 


JACK TIER. 


can’t get along with this, Mr. Mulford, and it does seem like 
witchcraft.” 

“ It is certainly a very singular incident, Jack, and I have 
been trying to come at its causes.” 

“Have you succeeded, Harry?” asked Rose, by this time 
wide awake, and wondering like the others. 

“ It must have happened in this wise. The wreck was aban¬ 
doned by us some little distance out here, to windward. The 
schooner’s masts, of course, pointed to^ leeward, and when she 
drifted in here, they have first touched on a shelving rock, and 
as they have been shoved up, little by little, they have acted 
as levers to right the hull, until the cargo has shifted back 
into its proper berth, wdiich has suddenly set the vessel up 
again.” 

“ Ay, ay, sir,” answered Jack, “ all that might have happened 
had she been above water, or any part of her above water; but 
you’ll remember, maty, that soon after we left her she w^ent 
down.” 

“ Not entirely. The wreck settled in the water no faster 
after we had left it, than it had done before. It continued to 
sink, inch by inch, as the air escaped, and no faster after it had 
gone entirely out of sight than before; not as fast, indeed, as 
the water became denser the lower it got. The great argu¬ 
ment against my theory, is the fact, that after the hull got be¬ 
neath the surface, the wind could not act on it. This is true 
in one sense, and not in another. The waves, or the pressure 
of the water produced by the wind, might act on the hull for 
some time after we ceased to see it. But the currents have set 
the craft in here, and the hull floating always, very little force 
would cant the craft. If the rock were shelving and slippery, 
I see no great difficulty in the way; and the barrels may have 
been so lodged, that a trifle would set them rolling back again, 
each one helping to produce a change that would move an¬ 
other. As for the ballast, that, I am certain, could not shift, 
for it was stowed with great care. As the vessel righted, the 


JACK TIER. 


355 


air still in her moved, and as soon as the water permitted, it 
escaped by the hatches, when the craft went down, as a matter 
of course. This air may have aided in bringing the hull up¬ 
right by its movements in the water.” 

This was the only explanation to which the ingenuity of 
Mulford could help^ him, under the circumstances, and it may 
have been the right one, or not. There lay the schooner, how¬ 
ever, in some five or six fathoms of water, with her two top¬ 
masts and lower mast-heads out of the element, as upright as 
if docked ! It may all have occurred as the mate fancied, or 
the unusual incident may have been owing to some of the 
many mysterious causes which baffle inquiry, when the agents 
are necessarily hidden from examination. 

“ Spike intends to come and look for this wreck, you tell 
me, Jack, in the hope of getting at the doubloons it contains ?” 
said Mulford, when the boat had lain a minute or two longer, 
riding by the mast-head. 

“ Ay, ay, sir; that’s his notion, sir, and he’ll be in a great 
stewq as soon as he turns out, which must be about this time, 
and finds me missing; for I was to pilot him to the spot.” 

“ He’ll want no pilot now. It will be scarcely possible to 
pass anywhere near this and not see these spars. But this 
discovery almost induces me to change my own plans. What 
say yow, Rose ? We have now reached the northern side of 
the reef, when it is time to haul close by the wind, if we wish 
to beat up to Key West. There is a moral certainty, however, 
that the sloop-of-war is somewhere in the neighborhood of 
the Dry Tortugas, which are much the most easily reached, 
being to leeward. We might run down to the lighthouse by 
midday, while it is doubtful if we could reach the town until 
to-morrow morning. I should like exceedingly to have five 
minutes’ conversation with the commander of the Poughkeep¬ 
sie.” 

“ Ay, to let him know where he will be likely to fall in with 
the Molly Swash and her traitor master, Stephen Spike,” cried 


356 


JACK TIER. 


Tier. “ Never mind, maty; let ’em come on ; both the Molly 
and her master have got long legs and clean heels. Stephen 
Spike will show ’em how to thread the channels of a reef.” 

“ It is amazing to me, Jack, that you should stand by your 
old captain in feeling, while you are helping to thwart him, all 
you can, in his warmest wishes.” 

“He’s a willian !” muttered Jack—“a reg’lar willian is Ste¬ 
phen Spike!” 

“ If a villain, why do you so evidently wish to keep him out 
of the hands of the law ? Let him be captured and punished, 
as his crimes require.” 

“ Men’s willians, all round,” still muttered Jack. “ Hark’e, 
Mr. Mulford, I’ve sailed in the brig longer than you, and 
know’d her in her comeliest and best days—when she was 
young, and blooming, and lovely to the eye, as the young crea¬ 
ture at your side—and it would go to my heart to have any 
thing happen her. Then, I’ve know’d Stephen a long time, too, 
and old shipmates get a feelin’ for each other, sooner or later. 
I tell you now, honestly, Mr. Mulford, Captain Adam Mull shall 
never make a prisoner of Stephen Spike, if I can prevent it.” 

The mate laughed at this sally, but Rose appeared anxious 
to change the conversation, and she managed to open a dis¬ 
cussion on the course it might be best to steer. Mulford had 
several excellent reasons to urge for wishing to run down to 
the islet, all of which, with a single exception, he laid before 
his betrothed. The concealed reason was one of the strongest 
of them all, as usually happens when there is a reason to con¬ 
ceal, but of that he took care to say nothing. The result was 
an acquiescence on the part of Rose, whose consent was yielded 
more to the influence of one particular consideration than to 
all the rest united. That one was this : Harry had pointed 
out to her the importance to himself of his appearing early 
to denounce the character and movements of the brig, lest, 
through his former situation in her, his own conduct might be 
seriously called in question. 


JACK TIER. 


357 


As soon as the matter was determined, Jack was told to let 
go his hold, the sheet was drawn aft, and away sped the boat. 
No sooner did Mulford cause the little craft to keep away, than 
it almost flew, as if conscious it were bound to its proper home, 
skimming swiftly over the waves, like a bird returning eagerly 
to its nest. An hour later, the party breakfasted. While at 
this meal. Jack Tier pointed out to the mate a white speck in 
the southeastern board, which he took to be the brig coming 
through the passage, on her way to the wreck. 

“No matter,” returned the mate. “Though we can see her, 
she cannot see us. There is that much advantage in our being 
small. Rose, if it do prevent our taking exercise by walking the 
deck.” 

Soon after, Mulford made a very distant sail in the north¬ 
western board, which he hoped might turn out to be the 
Poughkeepsie. It was but another speck, but its position was 
somewhat like that in which he had expected to meet the 
sloop-of-war. The two vessels were so far apart that one could 
not be seen from the other, and there was little hope that the 
Poughkeepsie would detect Spike at his toil on the wreck; but 
the mate fully expected that the ship would go into the an¬ 
chorage, among the islets, in order to ascertain what had be¬ 
come of the schooner. If she did not go in herself, she would 
be almost certain to send in a boat. 

The party from the brigantine had run down before the 
wind more than two hours before the lighthouse began to 
show itself, just rising out of the waves. This gave them the 
advantage of a beacon, Mulford having steered hitherto alto¬ 
gether by the sun, the direction of the wind, and the trending 
of the reef. Now he had his port in sight, it being his inten¬ 
tion to take possession of the dwelling of the lighthouse 
keeper, and to remain in it, until a favorable opportunity oc¬ 
curred to remove Rose to Key West. The young man had 
also another important project in view, which it will be in sea¬ 
son to mention as it reaches the moment of its fulfilment. 


358 


JACK TIER. 


The rate of sailing of the lighthouse boat, running before a 
brisk trade wind, could not be much less than nine miles in the 
hour. About eleven o’clock, therefore, the lively craft shot 
through one of the narrow channels of the islets, and entered 
the haven. In a few minutes all three of the adventurers were 
on the little wharf where the lighthouse people were in the 
habit of landing. Rose proceeded to the house, while Harry 
and Jack remained to secure the boat. For the latter purpose 
a sort of slip, or little dock, had been made, and when the boat 
was hauled into it, it lay so snug that not only was the craft 
secure from injury, but it was actually hid from the view of all 
but those who stood directly above it. 

“ This is a snug berth for the boat. Jack,” observed the mate, 
when he had hauled it into the place mentioned, “and by un¬ 
stepping the mast, a passer-by would not suspect such a craft 
of lying in it. Who knows what occasion there may be for 
concealment ? and I’ll e’en do that thing.” 

To a casual listener, Harry, in unstepping the mast, might 
have seemed influenced merely by a motiveless impulse ; but, in 
truth, a latent suspicion of Jack’s intentions instigated him ; 
and as he laid the mast, sprit, and sail on the thwarts, he de¬ 
termined, in his own mind, to remove them all to some other 
place, as soon as an opportunity for doing so unobserved should 
occur. He and Jack now followed Rose to the house. 

The islets were found deserted and tenantless. Not a human 
being had entered the house since Rose left it, the evening 
she had remained so long ashore, in company with her aunt 
and the Senor Montefalderon. This our heroine knew from 
‘the circumstance of finding a slight fastening of the outer door 
in the precise situation in which she had left it with her own 
hands. At first a feeling of oppression and awe prevailed 
with both Harry and Rose, when they recollected the fate of 
those who had so lately been tenants of the place; but this 
gradually wore otf, and each soon got to be more at home. As 
for Jack, he very coolly rummaged the lockers, as he called 


JACK TIER. 


359 


the drawers and closets of the place, and made his prepara¬ 
tions for cooking a very delicious repast, in which callqjash 
and callipee were to be material ingredients. The necessary 
condiments were easily enough found in that place, turtle being 
a common dish there, and it was not long before steams that 
might have quickened the appetite of an alderman filled the 
kitchen. Rose rummaged, too, and found a clean table-cloth, 
plates, glasses, bowls, spoons, and knives; in a word, all that 
was necessary to spread a plain but plentiful board. While 
all this was doing, Harry took some fishing-tackle, and pro¬ 
ceeded to a favorable spot among the rocks. In twenty min¬ 
utes he returned with a fine mess of that most delicious little 
fish that goes by the very unpoetical name of “hog-fish,” 
from the circumstance of its giving a grunt not unlike that of 
a living porker, when rudely drawn from its proper element. 
Nothing was now wanting to not only a comfortable, but to 
what was really a most epicurean meal; and Jack just begged 
the lovers to have patience for an hour or so, when he promised 
them dishes that even New York could not furnish. 

Harry and Rose first retired to pay a little attention to their 
dress, and then they joined each other in a walk. The mate 
had found some razors, and was clean shaved. He had also 
sequestered a shirt, and made some other little additions to his 
attire, that contributed to give him the appearance of being, 
that which he really was, a very gentlemanlike-looking young- 
sailor. Rose had felt no necessity for taking liberties with the 
effects of others, though a good deal of female attire was 
found in the dwelling. As -was afterwards ascertained, a family 
ordinarily dwelt there, but most of it had gone to Key West, 
on a visit, at the moment when the man and boy left in charge 
had fallen into the hands of the Mexicans, losing their lives in 
the manner mentioned. 

While walking together, Harry opened his mind to Rose on 
the subject which lay nearest to his heart, and which had been 
at the bottom of this second visit to the islets of the Dry Tor- 


360 


JACK TIER. 


tiigas. During the different visits of Wallace to the brig, the 
boat’s crew of the Poughkeepsie had held more or less discourse 
with the pnople of the Swash. This usually happens on such 
occasions; and although Spike had endeavored to. prevent it 
when his brig lay in this bay, he had not been entirely suc¬ 
cessful. Such discourse is commonly jocular, and sometimes 
witty; every speech, coming from which side it may, ordinarily 
commencing with “ shipmate,” though the interlocutors never 
saw each other before that interview. In one of the visits an 
allusion was made to cargo, when “the pretty gal aft” was 
mentioned as being a part of the cargo of the Swash. In an¬ 
swer to this remark, the wit of the Poughkeepsie had told the 
brig’s man, “ you had better send her on board us, for we carry 
a chaplain, a regular-huilt one, that will he a bishop some day 
or other, perhaps, and we can get her spliced to one of our 
young officers.” This remark had induced the sailor of the 
Molly to ask if a sloop-of-war really carried such a piece of 
marine luxury as a chaplain, and the explanation given went 
to say that the clergyman in question did not properly belong 
to the Poughkeepsie, but was to be put on board a frigate, as 
soon as they fell in with one that he named. Now, all this 
Mulford overheard, and he remembered it at a moment Avhen 
it might be of use. Situated as he and Rose were, he felt the 
wisdom and propriety of their being united, and his present 
object was to persuade his companion to be of the same way 
of thinking. He doubted not that the sloop-of-war would 
come in, ere long, perhaps that very day, and he believed it 
would be an easy matter to induce her chaplain to perform 
the ceremony. America is a country in which every facility 
exists, with the fewest possible impediments, to getting mar¬ 
ried ; and, we regret to be compelled to add, to getting un¬ 
married also. There are no bans, no licenses, no consent of 
parents even, usually necessary, and persons who are of the 
age of discretion, which, as respects females and matrimony, 
is a very tender age indeed, may be married, if they see fit. 


JACK TIER. 


361 


almost without form or ceremony. There existed, therefore, 
no legal impediment to the course Mulford desired to take; 
and his principal, if not his only difficulty, would be with 
Rose. Over her scruples he hoped to prevail, and not without 
reason, as the case he could and did present, was certainly 
one of a character that entitled him to be heard with great 
attention. 

In the first place, Mrs. Budd had approved of the connec¬ 
tion, and it was understood between them, that the young 
people were to be united at the first port in which a clergyman 
of their own persuasion could be found, and previously to 
reaching home. This had been the aunt’s own project; for, 
weak and silly as she was, the relict had a woman’s sense of 
the proprieties. It had occurred to her that it would be more 
respectable to make the long journey which lay before them, 
escorted by a nephew and husband, than escorted by even an 
accepted lover. It is true that she had never anticipated a 
marriage in a lighthouse, and under the circumstances in which 
Rose was now placed, though it might be more reputable that 
her niece should quit the islets as the wife of Harry, than as 
his betrothed. Then Mulford still apprehended Spike. In 
that remote part of the world, almost beyond the confines of 
society, it was not easy to foretell what claims he might set 
up, in the event of his meeting them there. Armed with the 
authority of a husband, Mulford could resist him, in any such 
case, with far better prospects of success than if he should 
appear only in the character of a suitor. 

Rose listened to these arguments, ardently and somewhat 
eloquently put, as a girl of her years and habits would be apt 
to listen to a favored lover. She was much too sincere to deny 
her own attachment, which the events of the last few days had 
increased almost to intenseness, so apt is our tenderness to 
augment in behalf of those for whom we feel solicitude; and 
her judgment told her that the more sober part of Harry’s 
reasoning was entitled to consideration. As his wife, her situa- 

16 


362 


JACK TIER. 


tion would certainly be much less equivocal and awkward than 
while she bore a different name, and was admitted to be a 
single woman; and it might yet be weeks before the duty she 
owed her aunt would allow her to proceed to the north. But, 
after all, Harry prevailed more through the influence of his 
hold on Rose’s affections, as would have been the case with 
almost every other woman, than through any force of reason¬ 
ing. He truly loved, and that made him eloquent when he 
spoke of love; sympathy in all he uttered being his great ally. 
When summoned to the house by the call of Jack, who an¬ 
nounced that the turtle-soup was ready, they returned with 
the understanding that the chaplain of the Poughkeepsie 
should unite them, did the vessel come in, and would the func¬ 
tionary mentioned consent to perform the ceremony. 

“ It would be awkward—nay, it would be distressing, Harry, 
to have him refuse,” said the blushing Rose, as they walked 
slowly back to the house, more desirous to prolong their con¬ 
versation than to partake of the bountiful provision of Jack 
Tier. The latter could not but be acceptable, nevertheless, to 
a young man like Mulford, who was in robust health, and who 
had fared so badly for the last eight-and-forty hours. When 
he sat down to the table, therefore, which was covered by a 
snow-white cloth, with smoking and most savory viands on it, 
it will not be surprising if we say it was with a pleasure that 
was derived from one of the great necessities of our nature. 

Sancho calls for benedictions “ on the man who invented 
sleep.” It would have been more just to have asked this boon 
in behalf of him who invented eating and turtle-soup. The 
wearied fall into sleep, as it might be, unwittingly; sometimes 
against their will, and often against their interests; while 
many a man is hungry without possessing the means of ap¬ 
peasing his appetite. Still more daily feel hunger without 
possessing turtle-soup. Certain persons impute this delicious 
compound to the genius of some London alderman, but we 
rather think unjustly. Aldermanic genius is easily excited and 


JACK TIER. 


363 


rendered active, no doubt, by strong appeals on such a theme, 
but our own experience inclines us to believe that the tropics 
usually send their inventions to the less fruitful regions of the 
earth along with their products. We have little doubt, could 
the fact be now ascertained, that it would be found turtle-soup 
was originally invented by just some such worthy as Jack Tier, 
who, in filling his coppers to tickle the captain’s appetite, had 
used all the condiments within his reach ; ventured on a sort 
of Regent’s punch ; and, as the consequence, had brought forth 
the dish so often eulogized, and so well beloved. It is a little 
extraordinary that in Paris, the seat of gastronomy, one rarely, 
if ever, hears of or sees this dish ; while in London it is to be 
met in almost as great abundance as in one of our larger com¬ 
mercial towns. But so it is, and we cannot say w^e much envy 
a cuisine its pat^s^ and souffiets^ and its a la this and a la thats, 
but which was never redolent wdth the odors of turtle-soup. 

“ Upon my w^ord, Jack, you have made out fiimously with 
your dinner, or supper, whichsoever you may please to call it,” 
cried Mulford gayly, as he took his seat at the table, after hav¬ 
ing furnished Rose with a chair. “ Nothing appears to be 
wanting ; but here is good pilot bread, potatoes even, and other 
little niceties, in addition to the turtle and the fish. These good 
people of the light seem to have lived comfortably, at any rate.” 

“ Why should they not, maty ?” answered Jack, beginning 
to help to soup. “ Living on one of these islets is like living 
afioat. Every thing is laid in, as for an outward-bound craft; 
then the reef must ahvays furnish fish and turtle. I’ve over¬ 
hauled the lockers pretty thoroughly, and find a plenty of 
stores to last us a month. Tea, sugar, coffee, bread, pickles, 
potatoes, onions, and all other knick-knacks.” 

“The poor people wdio own these stores will be heavy- 
hearted enough when they come to learn the reason why we 
have been put in undisturbed possession of their property,” 
said Rose. “ We must contrive some means of repaying them 
for such articles as we may use, Harry.” 


364 


JACK TIER. 


“ That’s easily enough done, Miss Rose. Drop one of the 
half-eagles in a teapot, or a mug, and they’ll be certain to fall 
in with it when they come back. Nothin’ is easier than to pay 
a body’s debts, when a body has the will and the means. Now, 
the worst enemy of Stephen Spike must own that his brig 
never quits port with unsettled bills. Stephen has his faults, 
like Other mortals ; but he has his good p’ints, too.” 

“ Still praising Spike, my good Jack,” cried the mate, a little 
provoked at this pertinacity in the deputy-steward, in sticking 
to his ship and his shipmate. “ I should have thought that 
you had sailed with him long enough to have found him out, 
and to wish never to put your foot in his cabin again.” 

“ Why, no, maty, a craft is a craft, and a body gets to like 
even the faults of one in which a body has gone through gales 
and squalls, with a whole skin. I like the Swash, and, for sar- 
tain things, I like her captain.” 

“ Meaning by that, it is your intention to get on board of the 
one, and to sail with the other, again, as soon as you can.” 

“ I do, Mr. Mulford, and make no bones in telling on’t. You 
know that I came here without wishing it.” 

“ AVell, Jack, no one will attempt to control your move¬ 
ments, but you shall be left your own master. I feel it to be 
a duty, how'ever, as one who may know more of the law than 
yourself, as well as more of Stephen Spike, to tell you that he 
is engaged in a treasonable commerce with the enemy, and 
that he, and all who voluntarily remain with him, knowing this 
fact, may be made to swing for it.” 

“Then I’ll swing for it,” returned Jack, sullenly. 

“ There is a little obstinacy in this, my good fellow, and you 
must be reasoned out of it. I am under infinite obligations to 
you. Jack, and shall ever be ready to own them. AVTthout you 
to sail the boat, I might have been left to perish on that rock 
—for God only knows whether any vessel w^ould have seen me 
in passing. Most of those who go through that passage keep 
the western side of the reef aboard, they tell me, on account 


JACK TIER. 


365 


of there being better water on that side of the channel, and 
the chance of a man’s being seen on a rock, by ships a league 
or two off, would be small indeed. Yes, Jack, I owe my life 
to you, and am proud to own it.” 

“ You owe it to Miss Rose, maty, who put me up to the 
enterprise, and who shared it with me.” 

“ To her I owe more than life,” answered Harry, looking at 
his beloved as she delighted in being regarded by him, “ but 
even she, with all her wishes to serve me, would have been 
helpless without your skill in managing a boat. I owe also to 
your good-nature the happiness of having Rose with me at this 
moment; for without you she would not have come.” 

“ I’ll not deny it, maty—take another ladle-full of the soup. 
Miss Rosy ; a quart of it wouldn’t hurt an infant—I’ll not deny 
it, Mr. Mulford—I know by the way you’ve got rid of the first 
bowl full that you are ready for another, and there it is—I’ll 
not deny it, all I can say is that you are heartily welcome to 
my sarvices.” 

“ I thank you. Jack ; but all this only makes me more de¬ 
sirous of being of use to you, now, when it is in my power. 
I wish you to stick by me, and not return to the Swash. As 
soon as I get to New York I shall build or buy a ship, and the 
berth of steward in her shall always be open to you.” 

“ Thank’e, maty; thank’e, with all my heart. It’s some¬ 
thing to know that a port is open to leeward, and, though I 
cannot now accept your offer, the day may come when I shall 
be glad to do so.” 

“ If you like living ashore better, our house will always be 
ready to receive you. I should be glad to leave as handy a 
little fellow as yourself behind me whenever I went to sea. 
There are a hundred things in which you might be useful and 
fully earn your biscuit, so as to have no qualms about eating 
the bread of idleness.” 

“ Thank’e, thank’e, maty,” cried Jack, dashing a tear out of 
his eye with the back of his hand, “ thank’e, sir, from the hot- 


306 


JACK TIER. 


tom of my heart. The time may come, but not now. My 
papers is signed for this v’y’ge. Stephen Spike has a halter 
round his neck, as you say yourself, and it’s necessary for me 
to be there to look to’t. We all have our callin’s and duties, 
and this is mine. I stick by the Molly and her captain until 
both are out of this scrape, or both are condemned. I know 
nothin’ of treason; but if the law wants another victim, I must 
take my chance.” 

Mulford was surprised at this steadiness of Jack’s, in what 
he thought a very had cause, and he was quite as much sur¬ 
prised that Rose did not join him, in his endeavors to persuade 
the steward not to be so foolhardy, as to endeavor to go back 
to the brig. Rose did not, however; sitting silently eating her 
dinner the whole time, though she occasionally cast glances of 
interest at both the speakers the while. In this state of things 
the mate abandoned the attempt, for the moment, intending to 
return to the subject, after having had a private conversation 
with his betrothed. 

Notwithstanding the little drawback just related, that was 
a happy as well as a delicious repast. The mate did full jus¬ 
tice to the soup, and afterwards to the fish with the unpoetical 
name; and Rose ate more than she had done in the last three 
days. The habits of discipline prevented Jack from taking his 
seat at table, though pressed by both Rose and Harry to do 
so, hut he helped himself to the contents of a howl, and did 
full justice to his own art, on one aside. The little fellow was 
delighted with the praises that were bestowed on his dishes; 
and for the moment, the sea, its dangers, its tornadoes, wrecks 
and races, were all forgotten in the security and pleasures of so 
savory a repast. 

“ Folk ashore don’t know how sailors sometimes live,” said 
Jack, holding a large spoon filled with the soup ready to plunge 
into a tolerably capacious mouth. 

“ Or how they sometimes starve,” answered Rose. “ Re¬ 
member our own ^tuation, less than forty-eight hours since I” 


JACK TIER. 


367 


“ All very true, Miss Rose ; yet, you see, turtle-soup brings 
us up, a’ter all. Would you like a glass of wine, maty ?” 

“ Very much indeed. Jack, after so luscious a soup; but 
wishing for it will not bring it here.” 

“ That remains to be seen, sir. I call this a bottle of some¬ 
thing that looks wery much like a wine.” 

“ Claret, as I live! Why, where should lighthouse keepers 
get the taste for claret 

“ I’ve thought of that myself, Mr. Mulford, and have sup¬ 
posed that some of Uncle Sam’s officers have brought the 
liquor to this part of the world. I understand a party on ’em 
was here surveyin’ all last winter. It seems they come in the 
cool weather, and get their sights and measure their distances, 
and go home in the warm weather, and work out their traverses 
in the shade, as it might be.” 

“ This seems likely, Jack; but, come whence it may, it is 
welcome, and we will taste it.” 

Mulford then drew the cork of this mild and grateful liquor, 
and helped his companions and himself. In this age of moral 
tours de force, one scarcely dare say any thing favorable of a 
liquid that even bears the name of wine, or extol the shape of 
a bottle. It is truly the era of exaggeration. Nothing is 
treated in the old-fashioned, natural, common-sense way. 
Virtue is no longer virtue, unless it get upon stilts; and, as 
for sin’s being confined to “ transgression against the law of 
God,” audacious would be the wretch who should presume to 
limit the sway of the societies by any dogma so narrow! A 
man may be as abstemious as an anchorite, and get no credit 
for it, unless “ he sign the pledgeor, signing the pledge, he 
may get fuddled in corners, and be cited as a miracle of sobrie¬ 
ty. The test of morals is no longer in the abuse of the gifts of 
Providence, but in their use; prayers are deserting the closet 
for the corners of streets, and charity (not the giving of alms) 
has got to be so earnest in the demonstration of its nature, as 
to be pretty certain to “begin at home,” and to end where it 


368 


JACK TIER. 


begins. Even the art of mendacity has been aroused by the 
great progress which is making by all around it, and many 
manifest the strength of their ambition by telling ten lies where 
their fathers would have been satisfied with telling only one. 
This art has made an extraordinary progress within the last 
quarter of a century, aspiring to an ascendency that was for¬ 
merly conceded only to truth, until he who gains his daily 
bread by it has some such contempt for the sneaking wretch 
who does business on the small scale, as the slayer of his thou¬ 
sands in the field is known to entertain for him who kills only 
a single man in the course of a long life. 

At the risk of damaging the reputations of our hero and 
heroine, we shall frankly aver the fact that both Harry and 
Rose partook of the vin de Bordeaux^ a very respectable bot¬ 
tle of Medoc^ by the way, which had been forgotten by Uncle 
Sam’s people, in the course of the preceding winter, agreeably 
to Jack Tier’s conjecture. One glass sufficed for Rose, and, 
contrary as it may be to all modern theory, she was somewhat 
the better for it; while the mate and Jack Tier quite half 
emptied the bottle, being none the worse. There they sat, 
enjoying the security and abundance which had succeeded to 
their late danger, happy in that security, happy in themselves, 
and happy in the prospects of a bright future. It was just as 
practicable for them to remain at the Dry Tortugas, as it was 
for the family which ordinarily dwelt at the light. The place 
was amply supplied with every thing that would be necessary 
for their wants, for months to come, and Harry caused his be¬ 
trothed to blush, as he whispered to her, should the chaplain 
arrive, he should delight in passing the honeymoon where 
they then were. 

“ I could tend the light,” he added, smiling, “ which would 
be not only an occupation, but a useful occupation; you could 
read all those books from beginning to end, and Jack could 
keep us supplied with fish. By the way, master steward, are 
you in the humor for motion, so soon after your hearty meal?” 


JACK TIER. 


369 


“Any thing to be useful,” answered Jack, cheerfully. 

“Then do me the favor to go up into the lantern of the 
lighthouse, and take a look for the sloop-of-war. If she’s in 
sight at all, you’ll find her off here to the northward; and 
while you are aloft you may as well make a sweep of the whole 
horizon. There hangs the lighthouse keeper’s glass, which 
may help your eyes, by stepping into the gallery outside of the 
lantern.” 

Jack willingly complied, taking the glass and proceeding 
forthwith to the other building. Mulford had two objects in 
view in giving this commission to the steward. He really 
wished to ascertain what was the chance of seeing the Pough¬ 
keepsie, in the neighborhood of the islets, and felt just that in¬ 
disposition to move himself, that is apt to come over one who 
has recently made a very bountiful meal, while he also desired 
to have another private conversation with Rose. 

A good portion of the time that Jack was gone, and he 
stayed quite an hour in the lantern, our lovers conversed as 
lovers are much inclined to converse; that is to say, of them¬ 
selves, their feelings, and their prospects. Mulford told Rose 
of his hopes and fears, while he visited at the house of her 
aunt, previously to sailing, and the manner in which his sus¬ 
picions had been first awakened in reference to the intentions 
of Spike—intentions, so far as they were connected with an 
admiration of his old commander’s niece, and possibly in con¬ 
nection also with the little fortune she was known to possess, 
but not in reference to the bold project to which he had, in 
fact, resorted. No distrust of the scheme finally put in prac¬ 
tice had ever crossed the mind of the young mate, until he 
received the unexpected order, mentioned in our opening chap¬ 
ter, to prepare the brig for the reception of Mrs. Budd and her 
party. Harry confessed his jealousy of one youth whom he 
dreaded far more even than he had ever dreaded Spike, and 
whose apparent favor with Rose, and actual favor with her 
aunt, had given him many a sleepless night. 

16 * 


370 


JACK TIER. 


They next conversed of the future, which to them seemed 
full of flowers. Various were the projects started, discussed, 
and dismissed, between them, the last- almost as soon as pro¬ 
posed. On one thing they were of a mind, as soon as pro¬ 
posed. Harry was to have a ship as quick as one could be 
purchased by Rose’s means, and the promised bride laughing¬ 
ly consented to make one voyage to Europe along with her 
husband. 

“ I wonder, dear Rose, my poverty has never presented any 
diflSculties in the way of our union,” said Harry, sensibly 
touched with the free way his betrothed disposed of her own 
money in his behalf; “ but neither you nor Mrs. Budd has 
ever seemed to think of the difference there is between us in 
this respect.” 

“What is the trifle I possess, Harry, set in the balance 
against your worth ? My aunt, as you say, has thought I might 
even be the gainer by the exchange.” 

“I am sure I feel a thousand times indebted to Mrs. 
Budd—” 

“ Aunt Budd. You must learn to say, ‘ my Aunt Budd,’ 
Mr. Henry Mulford, if you mean to live in peace with her un¬ 
worthy niece.” 

“ Aunt Budd, then,” returned Harry, laughing, for the laugh 
came easily that evening; “ Aunt Budd, if you wish it, Rose. 
I can have no objection to call any relative of yours, uncle or 
aunt.” 

“ I think we are intimate enough, now, to ask you a ques¬ 
tion or two, Harry, touching my aunt,” continued Rose, look¬ 
ing stealthily over her shoulder, as if apprehensive of being 
overheard. “You know how fond she is of speaking of the 
sea, and of indulging in nautical phrases ?” 

“ Any one must have observed that. Rose,” answered the 
young man, gazing up at the wall, in order not to be com¬ 
pelled to look the beautiful creature before him in the eyes— 
“ Mrs. Budd has very strong tastes that way.” 


JACK TIER. 


371 


“ Now tell me, Harry—that is, answer me frankly—I mean 
—she is not always right, is she ?” 

“ Why, no; not absolutely so—that is, not absolutely always 
so—few persons are always right, you know.” 

Rose remained silent and embarrassed for a moment, after 
which she pursued the discourse. 

“ But aunty does not know as much of the sea and of ships 
as she thinks she does ?” 

“Perhaps not. We all overrate our own acquirements. I 
dare say that even I am not as good a seaman as I fancy my¬ 
self to be.” 

“ Even Spike admits that you are what he calls ‘ a prime 
seaman.’ But it is not easy for a woman to get a correct 
knowledge of the use of all the strange, and sometimes uncouth, 
terms that you sailors use.” 

“Certainly not, and for that reason I would rather you 
should never attempt it. Rose. We rough sons of the ocean 
would prefer to hear our wives make divers pretty blun¬ 
ders, rather than to be swaggering about like so many ‘ old 
salts.’ ” 

“ Mr. Mulford! Does Aunt .Budd swagger like an old 
salt?” 

“ Dearest Rose, I was not thinking of your aunt, but of you. 
Of you, as you are, feminine, spirited, lovely alike in form and 
character, and of you a graduate of the ocean, and full of its 
language and ideas.” 

It was probable Rose was not displeased at this allusion to 
herself, for a smile struggled around her pretty mouth, and she 
did not look at all angry. After another short pause, she re¬ 
sumed the discourse. 

“My aunt did not very clearly comprehend those explana¬ 
tions of yours about the time of day, and the longitude,” she 
said, “ nor am I quite certain that I did myself.” 

“You understand them far better than Mrs. Budd, Rose. 
Women are so little accustomed to think on such subjects at 


3Y2 


JACK TIER. 


all, that it is not surprising they sometimes get confused. I do 
wish, however, that your aunt could be persuaded to be more 
cautious in the presence of strangers, on the subject of terms 
she does not understand.” 

“ I feared it might be so, Harry,” answered Rose, in a low 
voice, as if unwilling even he should know the full extent of 
her thoughts on this subject; “but my aunt’s heart is most 
excellent, though she may make mistakes occasionally. I owe 
her a great deal, if not absolutely my education, certainly my 
health and comfort through childhood, and more prudent, 
womanly advice than you may suppose, perhaps, since I have 
left school. How she became the dupe of Spike, indeed, is to 
me unaccountable; for in all that relates to health, she is, in 
general, both acute and skilful.” 

“ Spike is a man of more art than he appears to be to super¬ 
ficial observers. On my first acquaintance with him, I mistook 
him for a frank, fearless, but well-meaning sailor, who loved 
hazardous voyages and desperate speculation—a sort of inno¬ 
cent gambler; but I have learned to know better. His means 
are pretty much reduced to his brig, and she is getting old, 
and can do but little more service. His projects are plain 
enough, now. By getting you into his power, he hoped to 
compel a marriage, in which case both your fortune and your 
aunt’s would contribute to repair his.” 

“ He might have killed me, but I never would have married 
him,” rejoined Rose, firmly. “ Is not that Jack coming down 
the steps of the lighthouse ?” 

“ It is. I find that fellow’s attachment to Spike very extra¬ 
ordinary, Rose. Can you, in any manner, account for it ?” 

Rose at first seemed disposed to reply. Her lips parted, as 
if about to speak, and closed again, as, glancing her eyes to¬ 
wards the open door, she seemed to expect the appearance of 
the steward’s little rotund form on its threshold, which held her 
tongue tied. A brief interval elapsed, however, ere Jack ac¬ 
tually arrived, and Rose, perceiving that Harry was curiously 


JACK TIER. 


3V3 


expecting her answer, said hurriedly—“It may be hatred, not 
attachment.” 

The next instant Jack Tier entered the room. He had been 
gone rather more than an hour,, not returning until just as the 
sun was about to set in a flame of fire. 

“Well, Jack, what news from the Poughkeepsie?” demanded 
the mate. “ You have been gone long enough to make sure of 
your errand. It is certain that we are not to see the man-of- 
war’s-men to-night. 

“ Whatever you see, my advice to you is to keep close, and 
to be on your guard,” answered Jack, evasively. 

“I have little fear of any of Uncle Sam’s craft. A plain 
story, and an honest heart, will make all clear to a well-dis¬ 
posed listener. We have not been accomplices in Spike’s 
treasons, and cannot be made to answer for them.” 

“ Take my advice, maty, and be in no hurry to hail every 
vessel you see. Uncle Sam’s fellows may not always be at 
hand to help you. Do you not know that this island will be 
tabooed to seamen for some time to come ?” 

“ Why so. Jack ? The islet has done no harm, though others 
may have performed wicked deeds near it.” 

“ Two of the drowned men lie within a hundred yards of this 
spot, and sailors never go near new-made graves, if they can 
find any other place to resort to.” 

“ You deal in enigmas, Jack; and did I not know that you are 
very temperate, I might suspect that the time you have been 
gone has been passed in the company of a bottle of brandy.” 

“That will explain my meanin’,” said Jack, laconically, point¬ 
ing as he spoke seemingly at some object that was to be seen 
without. 

The door of the house was wide open, for the admission of 
air. It faced the haven of the islets, and just as the mate’s 
eyes were turned to it, the end of a flying-jib-boom, with the 
sail down, and fluttering beneath it, was coming into the view. 
“ The Poughkeepsie!” exclaimed Mulford, in delight, seeing all 


374 


JACK TIER. 


liis hopes realized, while Rose blushed to the eyes. A pause 
succeeded, during which Mulford drew aside, keeping his be¬ 
trothed in the background, and as much out of sight as pos¬ 
sible. The vessel was shooting swiftly into view, and presently 
all there could see it was the Swash. 


JACK TIER. 


375 


CHAPTER XII. 

“ But no—he surely is not dreaming. 

Another minute makes it clear, 

A scream, a rush, a burning tear. 

From Inez’ cheek, dispel the fear 
That bliss like his is only seeming.” 

Washington Alston. 

A MOMENT of appalled surprise succeeded the instant when 
Harry and Rose first ascertained the real character of the vessel 
that had entered the haven of the Dry Tortugas. Then the 
first turned towards Jack Tier, and sternly demanded an expla¬ 
nation of his apparent faithlessness. 

“ Rascal,” he cried, “ has this treachery been intended ? Did 
you not see the brig and know her ?” 

“Hush, Harry —dear Harry,” exclaimed Rose, entreatingly. 
“My life for it, Jack has not been faithless.” 

“ Why, then, has he not let us know that the brig was com¬ 
ing ? For more than an hour has he been aloft, on the look¬ 
out, and here are we taken quite by surprise. Rely on it. Rose, 
he has seen the approach of the brig, and might have sooner 
put us on our guard.” 

“Ay, ay, lay it on, maty,” said Jack, coolly, neither angry 
nor mortified, so far as appearances went, at these expressions 
of dissatisfaction; “ my back is used to it. If I didn’t know 
what it is to get hard raps on the knuckles, I should be but a 
young steward. But, as for this business, a little refiection will 
tell you I am not to blame.” 

“ Give us your own explanations, for without them I shall 
trust you no longer.” 


376 


JACK TIER. 


“ Well, sir, what good would it have done, had I told you 
the brig was standing for this place ? There she came down, 
like a race-horse, and escape for you was impossible. As the 
wind is now blowin’, the Molly would go two feet to the boat’s 
one, and a chase would have been madness.” 

“ I don’t know that, sirrah,” answered the mate. “ The boat 
might have got into the smaller passages of the reef, where the 
brig could not enter, or she might have dodged about among 
these islets, until it was night, and then escaped in the darkness.” 

“ I thought of all that, Mr. Mulford, but it came too late. 
When I first went aloft, I came out on the northwest side of 
the lantern, and took my seat, to look out for the sloop-of-war, 
as you bade me, sir. Well, there I was, sweepin’ the horizon 
with the glass for the better part of an hour, sometimes faucyin’ 
I saw her, and then givin’ it up; for to this moment I am not 
sartain there isn’t a sail off here to the westward, turning up 
towards the light on a bowline; but if there be, she’s too far off 
to know any thing partic’lar about her. Well, sir, there I sat, 
looking for the Poughkeepsie, for the better part of an hour, 
when I thought I would go round on t’other side of the lan¬ 
tern and take a look to windward. My heart was in my 
mouth, I can tell you, Miss Rose, when I saw the brig; and I 
felt both glad and sorry. Glad on my own account, and sorry 
on your’n. There she was, however, and no help for it, with¬ 
in two miles of this very spot, and coming down as if she de¬ 
spised touching the water at all. Now, what could I do ? There 
wasn’t time, Mr. Mulford, to get the boat out, and the mast 
stepped, afore we should have been within reach of canister, 
and Stephen Spike would not have spared that^ in order to get 
you again within his power.” 

“ Depend on it, Harry, this is all true,” said Rose, earnestly. 
“ I know Jack well, and can answer for his fidelity. He wishes 
to, and if he can he will return to the brig, whither he thinks 
his duty calls him, but he will never willingly betray us —least 
of all, me. Do I speak as I ought. Jack ?” 


JACK TIER. 


377 


“ Gospel truth, Miss Rose, and Mr. Mulford will get over this 
squall, as soon as he comes to think of matters as he ought. 
There’s my hand, maty, to show I bear no malice.” 

“I take it. Jack, for I must believe you honest, after all you 
have done for us. Excuse my warmth, which, if a little un¬ 
reasonable, was somewhat natural under the circumstances. I 
suppose our case is now hopeless, and that we shall all be soon 
on board the brig again; for Spike will hardly think of aban¬ 
doning me again on an island provisioned and fitted as is 
this!” 

“ It’s not so sartain, sir, that you fall into his hands at all,” 
put in Jack. “The men of the brig will never come here of 
their own accord, depend on that, for sailors don’t like graves. 
Spike has come in here a’ter the schooner’s chain, that he 
dropped into the water when he made sail from the sloop-of- 
war, at the time he was here afore, and is not expectin’ to find 
us here. No—no—he thinks we are heatin’ up towards Key 
West this very minute, if, indeed, he has missed us at all. ’Tis 
possible he believes the boat has got adrift by accident, and 
has no thought of our bein’ out of the brig.” 

“ That is impossible, Jack. Do you suppose he is ignorant 
that Rose is missing ?” 

“ Sartain of it, maty, if Mrs. Budd has read the letter well 
that Miss Rose left for her, and Biddy has obeyed orders. If 
they’ve followed instructions, Miss Rose is thought to be in her 
stateroom, mournin’ for a young man who was abandoned on 
a naked rock; and Jack Tier, havin’ eat somethin’ that has dis¬ 
agreed with him, is in his berth. Recollect, Spike will not be 
apt to look into Miss Rose’s stateroom or my berth, to see if 
all this is true. The cook and Josh are both in my secret, and 
know I mean to come back, and when the fit is over I have 
only to return to duty, like any other hand. It is my calcu¬ 
lation that Spike believes both Miss Rose and myself on board 
the Molly at this very moment.” 

“And the boat—what can he suppose has become of the boat ?” 


378 


JACK TIER. 


“ Sartainly, the boat makes the only chance ag’in us. But 
the boat was ridin’ by its painter astarn, and accidents some¬ 
times happen to such craft. Then we two are the wery last 
he will suspect of havin’ made off in the boat by ourselves. 
There’ll be Mrs. Budd and Biddy as a sort of pledge that Miss 
Rose is aboard, and as for Jack Tier, he is too insignificant to 
occupy the captain’s thoughts just now. He will probably 
muster the people for’ard, when he finds the boat is gone, but 
I do not think he’ll trouble the cabins or staterooms.” 

Mulford admitted that this was possible, though it scarcely 
seemed probable to him. There was no help, however, for the 
actual state of things, and they all now turned their attention 
to the brig, and to the movements of those on board her. Jack 
Tier had swung to the outer door of the house, as soon as the 
Swash came in view through it, and fortunately none of the 
windows on that side of the building had been opened at all. 
The air entered to windward, which was on the rear of the 
dwelling, so that it was possible to be comfortable, and yet leave 
the front, in view from the vessel, with its deserted air. As for 
the brig, she had already anchored and got both her boats into 
the water. The yawl was hauled alongside, in readiness for 
any service that might be required of it, while the launch had 
been manned at once, and was already weighing the anchor, 
and securing the chain to which Tier had alluded. All this 
served very much to lessen the uneasiness of Mulford and Rose, 
as it went far to prove that Spike had not come to the Dry 
Tortugas in quest of them, as, at first, both had very naturally 
supposed. It might, indeed, turn out that his sole object was 
to obtain this anchor and chain, with a view to use them in 
raising th-e ill-fated vessel that had now twice gone to the 
bottom. 

“ I wish an explanation with you. Jack, on one other point,” 
said the mate, after all three had been for some time observing 
the movements on board and around the Swash. “Do you 
actually intend to get on board the brig ?” 


JACK TIER. 


3*79 


“ If it’s to be done, maty. My v’y’ge is up with you and 
Miss Kose. I may be said to have shipped for Key West and 
a market, and the market’s found at this port.” 

“You will hardly leave us yet^ Jack,” said Rose, with a man¬ 
ner and emphasis that did not fail to strike her betrothed 
lover, though he could in no way account for either. That 
Rose should not wish to be left alone with him in that solitary 
place, was natural enough; or, might rather be referred to 
education and the peculiar notions of her sex; but he could 
not understand why so much importance should be attached 
to the presence of a being of Jack Tier’s mould and character. 
It was true, that there was little choice, under present circum¬ 
stances, but it occurred to Mulford that Rose had manifested 
the same strange predilection when there might have been 
something nearer to a selection. The moment, however, was 
not one for much reflection on the subject. 

“You will hardly leave us yet. Jack?” said Rose, in the 
manner related. 

“ It’s now or never. Miss Rose. If the brig once gets away 
from this anchorage without me, I may never lay eyes on her 
ag’in. Her time is nearly up, for wood and iron won’t hold to¬ 
gether always, any more than flesh and blood. Consider how 
many years I’ve been busy in huntin’ her up, and how hard 
’twill be to lose that which has given me so many weary days 
and sleepless nights to find.” 

Rose said no more. If not convinced, she was evidently 
silenced, while Harry was left to wonder and surmise, as best 
he might. Both quitted the subject, to watch the people of 
the brig. By this time the anchor had been lifted, and the 
chain was heaving in on board the vessel, by means of a line 
that had been got around its bight. The work went on rapid¬ 
ly, and Mulford observed to Rose that he did not think it was 
ihe intention of Spike to remain long at the Tortugas, inas¬ 
much as his brig was riding by a very short range of cable. 
This opinion was confirmed, half an hour later, when it was 


380 


JACK TIER. 


seen that the launch was hooked on and hoisted in again, as 
soon as the chain and anchor of the schooner were secured. 

Jack Tier watched every movement with palpable uneasi¬ 
ness. His apprehensions that Spike would obtain all he want¬ 
ed, and be off before he could rejoin him, increased at each 
instant, and he did not scruple to announce an intention to 
take the boat and go alongside of the Swash at every hazard, 
rather than be left. 

“ You do not reflect on what you say. Jack,” answered 
Harry; “ unless, indeed, it be your intention to betray us. How 
could you appear in the boat, at this place, without letting it 
be known that we must be hard by ?” 

“That don’t follow at all, maty,” answered Jack. “Suppose 
I go alongside the brig and own to the captain that I took the 
boat last night, with the hope of findin’ you, and that failin’ to 
succeed, I bore up for this port, to look for provisions and 
water. Miss Rose he thinks on board at this moment, and in 
my judgment he would take me at my word, give me a good 
cursing, and think no more about it.” 

“ It would never do. Jack,” interposed Rose, instantly. “ It 
would cause the destruction of Harry, as Spike would not be¬ 
lieve you had not found him, without an examination of this 
house.” 

“ What are they about with the yawl, Mr. Mulford ?” asked 
Jack, whose eye was never off the vessel for a single moment. 
“ It’s gettin’ to be so dark that one can hardly see the boat, 
but it seems as if they’re about to man the yawl.” 

“ They are, and there goes a lantern into it. And that is 
Spike himself coming down the brig’s side this instant.” 

“ They can only bring a lantern to search this house,” ex¬ 
claimed Rose. “ Oh! Harry, you are lost!” 

“ I rather think the lantern is for the lighthouse,” answered 
Mulford, whose coolness, at what was certainly a most trying 
moment, did not desert him. “ Spike may wish to keep the 
light burning, for once before, you will remember, he had it 


JACK TIER. 


381 


kindled after the keeper was removed. As for his sailing, he 
would not be apt to sail until the moon rises; and in beating 
back to the wreck, the light may serve to let him know the 
bearings and position of the reef.” 

“ There they come,” whispered Rose, half breathless with 
alarm. “ The boat has left the brig, and is coming directly 
hither!” 

All this was true enough. The yawl had shoved off, and 
with two men to row it, was pulling for the wharf in front ol 
the house, and among the timbers of which lay the boat, pretty 
well concealed beneath a sort of bridge. Mulford would not 
retreat, though he looked to the fastenings of the door as a 
means of increasing his chances of defence. In the stern-sheets 
of the boat sat two men, though it was not easy to ascertain 
who they were by the fading light. One was known to be 
Spike, however, and the other, it was conjectured, must be Don 
Juan Montefalderon, from the circumstance of his being in the 
place of honor. Three minutes solved this question, the boat 
reaching the wharf by that time. It was instantly secured, and 
all fom* of the men left it. Spike was now plainly to be dis¬ 
cerned by means of the lantern which he carried in his own 
hands. He gave some orders, in his customary authoritative 
way, and in a high key, after which he led the way from the^ 
wharf, walking side by side with the Senor Montefalderon. 
These two last came within a yard of the door of the house, 
where they paused, enabling those within not only to see their 
persons and the working of their countenances, but to hear all 
that was said; this last the more especially, since Spike never 
thought it necessary to keep his powerful voice within moderate 
limits. 

“ It’s hardly worth while, Don Wan, for you to go into the 
lighthouse,” said Spike. “ ’Tis but a greasy, dirty place at the 
bes\, and one’s clothes are never the better for dealin’ with ile. 
Here, Bill, take the lantern, and get a filled can, that we may 
go up and trim and fill the lamp, and make a blaze. Bear a 


382 


JACK TIER. 


hand, lads, and I’ll be a’ter ye afore you reach the lantern. Be 
careful with the flame about the ile, for seamen ought never to 
wish to see a lighthouse destroyed.” 

“ What do you expect to gain by lighting the lamps above, 
Don Esteban ?” demanded the Mexican, when the sailors had 
disappeared in the lighthouse, taking their own lantern with 
them. 

“ It’s wisest to keep things reg’lar about this spot, Don Wan, 
which will prevent unnecessary suspicions. But, as the brig 
stretches in towards the reef to-night, on our way back, the light 
will be a great assistance. I am short of officers, you know, and 
want all the help of this sort I can get.” 

To be sincere with you, Don Esteban, I greatly regret you 
are so short of officers, and do not yet despair of inducing you 
to go and take off the mate, whom I hear you have left on a 
barren rock. He was a fine young fellow, Senor Spike, and the 
deed was not one that you will wish to remember a few years 
hence.” 

“ The fellow run, and I took him at his word, Don Wan. 
[’m not obliged to receive back a deserter unless its suits me.” 

“ We are all obliged to see we do not cause a fellow-creature 
the loss .of life. This will prove the death of the charming 
^mung woman wdio is so much attached to him, unless you 
relent and are merciful!” 

“Women have tender looks, but tough’hearts,” answered 
Spike, carelessly, though Mulford felt certain, by the tone of his 
voice, that great bitterness of feeling lay smothered beneath the 
affected indifference of his manner; “ few die of love.” 

“ The young lady has not been on deck all day, and the Irish 
woman tells me that she does nothing but drink water—the 
certain proof of a high fever.” 

“ Ay, ay, she keeps her room if you will, Don Wan, but she 
is not about to make a dupe of n;p by any such tricks. I must 
go and look to the lamps, however, and you will find the graves 
you seek in the rear of this house, about thirty yards behind it. 


JACK TIER. 


383 


you’ll remember. That’s a very pretty cross you’ve made, senor, 
and the skipper of the schooner’s soul will be all the better for 
settin’ it up at the head of his grave.” 

“ It will serve to let those who come after us know that a 
Christian sleeps beneath the sand, Don Esteban,” answered the 
Mexican, mildly. “ I have no other expectation from this sacred 
symbol.” 

The two now separated. Spike going into the lighthouse, little 
in a hurry, while Don Juan Montefalderon walked round the 
building to its rear, in quest of the grave. Mulford waited a 
moment for Spike to get a short distance up the stairs of the 
high tow'er he had to ascend, when placing the arm of Rose 
within his own, he opened the door in the rear of the house, and 
walked boldly towards the Mexican. Don Juan was actually 
forcing the pointed end of his little cross into the sand, at the 
head of his countryman’s grave, when Mulford and his trem¬ 
bling companion reached the spot. Although night had shut in, 
it was not so dark that persons could not be recognized at small 
distances. The Senor Montefalderon was startled at an appari¬ 
tion so sudden and unexpected, when Mulford saluted him by 
name; but recognizing first the voice of Harry, and then the 
persons of himself and his companion, surprise, rather than 
alarm, became the emotion that was uppermost. Notwithstand¬ 
ing the strength of the first of these feelings, he instantly saluted 
the young couple with the polished ease that marked his man¬ 
ner, which had much of the courtesy of a Castilian in it, tem¬ 
pered a little, perhaps, by the greater flexibility of a Southern 
American. 

“ I see you,” exclaimed Don Juan, “ and must believe my 
eyes. Without their evidence, however, I could scarce believe 
it can be you two, one of whom I thought was on board the 
brig, and the other suffering a most miserable death on a naked 
rock.” 

“ I am aware of your kind feelings in our behalf, Don Juan,” 
said Mulford, “ and it is the reason I now confide in you. I was 


384 


JACK TIER. 


taken off that rock by means of the boat which you doubtless 
have missed; and this is the gentle being who has been the 
means of saving my life. To her and Jack Tier, who is yonder, 
under the shadows of the house, I owe my not being the victim 
of Spike’s cruelty.” 

“ I now comprehend the whole matter, Don Henriqiiez. 
Jack Tier has managed the boat for the senorita; and those 
whom we were told were too ill to be seen on deck, have been 
really out of the brig!” 

“ Such are the facts, senor, and from you there is no wish to 
conceal them. We are then to understand that the absence of 
Rose and Jack from the brig is not known to Spike ?” 

“ I believe not, senor. He has alluded to both, once or twice 
to-day, as being ill below; but would you not do well to retire 
within the shade of the dwelling, lest a glance from the lantern 
might let those in it know that I am not alone ?” 

“ There is little danger, Don Juan, as they who stand near a 
light cannot well see those who are in the darkness. Besides, 
they are high in the air, while we are on the ground, which will 
greatly add to the obscurity down here. We can retire, never¬ 
theless, as I have a few questions to ask, which may as well be 
put in perfect security, as put where there is any risk.” 

The three now drew near the house. Rose actually stepping 
within its door, though Harry remained on its exterior, in order 
to watch the proceedings of those in the lighthouse. Here the 
Senor Montefalderon entered into a more detailed explanation 
of what had occurred on board the brig, since the appearance of 
day, that very morning. According to his account of the mat¬ 
ter, Spike had immediately called upon the people to explain 
the loss of the boat. Tier was not interrogated on this occa¬ 
sion, it being understood he had gone below and turned in, after 
having the look-out for fully half the night. As no one could, 
or would give an account of the manner in which the boat was 
missing. Josh was ordered to go below and question Jack on the 
subject. Whether it was from consciousness of his connection 


JACK TIER. 


385 


with the escape of Jack, and apprehensions of the consequences, 
or from innate good-nature, and a desire to befriend the lovers, 
this black now admitted that Jack confessed to him that the 
boat had got away from him while endeavoring to shift the 
turns of its painter from a cleet where they ought not to be, to 
their proper place. This occurred early in Jack’s watch, ac¬ 
cording to Josh’s story, and had not been reported, as the boat 
did not properly belong to the brig, and was an incumbrance 
rather than an advantage. The mate admired the negro’s cun¬ 
ning, as Don Juan related this part of his story, which put him 
in a situation to throw all the blame on Jack’s mendacity in the 
event of a discovery, while it had the effect to allow the fugi¬ 
tives more time for their escape. The result was, that Spike 
bestowed a few hearty curses, as usual, on the clumsiness of 
Jack Tier, and seemed to forget all about the matter. It is prob¬ 
able he connected Jack’s abstaining from showing himself on 
deck, and his alleged indisposition, with his supposed delin¬ 
quency in this matter of the boat. From that moment the cap¬ 
tain appeared to give himself no further concern on the subject, 
the boat having been, in truth, an incumbrance rather than a 
benefit, as stated. 

As for Rose, her keeping her room, under the circumstances, 
was so very natural, that the Senor Montefalderon had been 
completely deceived, as, from his tranquillity on this point, there 
was no question was the case with Spike also. Biddy ap¬ 
peared on deck, though the widow did not, and the Irish woman 
shook her head anxiously when questioned about her young 
mistress, giving the spectators reason to suppose that the latter 
was in a very bad way. 

As respects the brig and her movements. Spike had got un¬ 
der way as soon as there was light enough to find his course, 
and had run through the passage. It is probable that the boat 
was seen; for something that was taken for a small sail had 
just been made out for a single instant, and then became lost 
agaip. This little sail was made, if made at all, in the direc- 

17 


886 


JACK TIER. 


tion of the Dry Tortugas, but so completely was all suspicion 
at rest in the minds of those on the quarter-deck of the Swash, 
that neither Spike nor the Mexican had the least idea what 
it was. When the circumstance was reported to the former, he 
answered that it was probably some small wrecker, of which 
many were hovering about the reef, and added, laughingly, 
though in a way to prove how little he thought seriously on 
the subject at all, “ who knows but the lighthouse boat has 
fallen into their hands, and that they’ve made sail on her ; if 
they have, my word for it, that she goes, hull, spars, rigging, 
canvas, and cargo, all in a lump, for salvage.” 

As the brig came out of the passage, in broad day, the 
heads of the schooner’s masts were seen, as a matter of course. 
This induced Spike to heave-to, lower a boat, and to go in per¬ 
son to examine the condition of the wreck. It will be seen 
that Jack’s presence could now be all the better dispensed with. 
The examination, with the soundings, and other calculations 
connected with raising the vessel, occupied hours. When they 
were completed, Spike returned on board, run up his boat, and 
squared away for the Dry Tortugas. Senor Montefalderon con¬ 
firmed the justice of Jack Tier’s surmises, as to the object of 
this unexpected visit. The brig had come solely for the chain 
and anchor mentioned, and having secured them, it was Spike’s 
intention to get under way and beat up to the wreck again as 
soon as the moon rose. As for the sloop-of-war, he believed 
she had given him up; for by this time she must know that 
she had no chance with the brig, so long as the latter kept near 
the reef, and that she ran the constant hazard of shipwreck, 
while playing so near the dangers herself. 

Before the Senor Montefalderon exhausted all he had to 
communicate, he was interrupted by Jack Tier with a singular 
proposition. Jack’s great desire was to get on board the 
Swash ; and he now begged the Mexican to let Mulford take 
the yawl and scull him otf to the brig, and return to the islet 
before Spike and his companions should descend from the Ian- 


JACK TIER. 


387 


tern of the lighthouse. The little fellow insisted there was 
sufficient time for such a purpose, as the three iu the lantern 
had not yet succeeded in filling the lamps with the oil necessary 
to their burning for a night—a duty that usually occupied the 
regular keeper for an hour. Five or six minutes would suffice 
for him ; and if he were seen going up the brig’s side, it would 
be easy for him to maintain that he had come ashore in the 
boat. No one took such precise note of what was going on, as 
to be able to contradict him; and as to Spike and the men 
with him, they would probably never hear any thing about it. 

Don Juan Montefalderon was struck with the boldness of 
Jack Tier’s plan, but refused his assent to it. He deemed it 
too hazardous, but substituted a project of his own. The 
moon would not rise until near eleven, and it wanted several 
hours before the time of sailing. When they returned to the 
brig, he would procure his cloak, and scull himself ashore, 
being perfectly used to managing a boat in this way, under the 
pretence of wishing to pass an hour longer near the grave of 
his countryman. At the expiration of that hour he would 
take Jack oft’, concealed beneath his cloak—an exploit of no 
great difficulty in the darkness, especially as no one would be 
on deck but a hand or two keeping the anchor-watch. With 
this arrangement, therefore. Jack Tier was obliged to be con¬ 
tent. 

Some fifteen or twenty minutes more passed, during which 
the Mexican again alluded to his country, and his regrets at 
her deplorable situation. The battles of the 8th and 9th of 
May, two combats that ought to, and which will reflect high 
honor on the little army that won them, as well as on that 
hardly worked, and in some respects hardly used, service to 
which they belong, had been just fought. Don Juan mentioned 
these events without reserve, and frankly admitted that success 
had fallen to tlie portion of much the weaker party. He as¬ 
cribed the victory to the great superiority of the American 
officers of inferior rank; it being well known that in the ser- 


388 


JACK TIER. 


v^ice of the “ Republic of the North,” as he termed America, 
men who had been regularly educated at the military academy, 
and who had reached the period of middle life, were serving 
in the stations of captains, and sometimes in that of lieuten¬ 
ants ; men who, in many cases, were fitted to command regi¬ 
ments and brigades, having been kept in these lower stations 
by the tardiness with which promotion comes in an army like 
that of this country. 

Don Juan Montefalderon was not sufiiciently conversant 
with the subject, perhaps, else he might have added, that when 
occasions do offer to bestow on these gentlemen the preferment 
they have so hardly and patiently earned, they are too often 
neglected, in order to extend the circle of vulgar political pat¬ 
ronage. He did not know that when a new regiment of 
dragoons was raised, one permanent in its character, and in¬ 
tended to be identified with the army in all future time, that, 
instead of giving its commissions to those who had fairly earned 
them by long privations and faithful service, they were given, 
with one or two exceptions, to strangers. 

No government trifles more with its army and navy than our 
own. So niggardly are the master-spirits at Washington of 
the honors justly earned by military men, that we have fleets 
still commanded by captains, and armies by officers, whose 
regular duty it would be to command brigades. The world is 
edified with the sight of forces sufficient, in numbers, and every 
other military requisite, to make one of Napoleon’s corps de 
armH^ led by one whose commission would place him properly 
at the head of a brigade, and nobly led, too. Here, when so 
favorable an occasion offers to add a regiment or two to the 
old permanent line of the army, and thus infuse new life into 
its hope deferred, the opportunity is overlooked, and the rank 
and file are to be obtained by cramming, instead of by a gene¬ 
rous regard to the interests of the gallant gentlemen who have 
done so much for the honor of the American name, and, un- 
happily, so little for themselves. The extra patriots of the 


JACK TIEU. 


389 


nation, and they form a legion large enough to trample the 
“ Halls of the Montezumas” under their feet, tell us that the 
reward of those other patriots beneath the shadows of the 
Sierra Madre, is to be in the love and approbation of their fel¬ 
low-citizens, at the very moment when they are giving the 
palpable proof of the value of this esteem, and of the incon¬ 
sistency of popular applause, by pointing their fingers, on ac¬ 
count of an inadvertent expression in a letter, at the gallant 
soldier who taught, in our own times, the troops of this country 
to stand up to the best appointed regiments of England, and 
to carry off victory from the pride of Europe, in fair field-fights. 
Alas! alas! it is true of nations as well as of men, in their 
simplest and earliest forms of association, that there are “se¬ 
crets in all families and it will no more do to dwell on our 
own, than it would edify us to expose those of poor Mexico. 

The discourse between the Senor Montefalderon and Mulford 
was interesting, as it ever has been when the former spoke of his 
unfortunate country. On the subject of the battles of May he 
was candid, and admitted his deep mortification and regrets. 
He had expected more from the force collected on the E-io 
Grande, though, understanding the northern character better 
than most of his countrymen, he had not been as much taken 
by surprise as the great bulk of his own nation. 

“ Nevertheless, Don Henrique,” he concluded, for the voice 
of Spike was just then heard as he was descending the stairs 
of the lighthouse, “ nevertheless, Don Henrique, there is one 
thing that your people, brave, energetic, and powerful as I ac¬ 
knowledge them to be, would do well to remember, and it is 
this :—no nation of the numbers of ours can be, or ever was, 
conquered, unless by the force of political combinations. In a 
certain state of society a government may be overturned, or a 
capital taken, and carry a whole country along with it, but our 
condition is one not likely to bring about such a result. We 
are of a race different from the Anglo-Saxon, and it will not be 
easy either to assimilate us to your own, or wholly to subdue 


390 


JACK TIEE. 


US. In those parts of the country where the population is 
small, in time, no doubt, the Spanish race might be absorbed, 
and your sway established ; but ages of war would be necessary 
entirely to obliterate our usages, our language, and our religion 
from the peopled portions of Mexico.” 

It might be well for some among us to reflect on these mat¬ 
ters ; the opinions of Don Juan, in our judgment, being entitled 
to the consideration of all prudent and considerate men. 

As Spike descended to the door of the lighthouse, Harry, 
Rose, and Jack Tier retired within that of the dwelling. Pres¬ 
ently the voice of the captain was heard hailing the Mexican, 
and together they walked to the wharf, the former boasting to 
the latter of his success in making a brilliant light. Brilliant 
it was, indeed; so brilliant as to give Mulford many misgivings 
on the subject of the boat. The light from the lantern fell upon 
the wharf, and he could see the boat from the window where 
he stood, with Spike standing nearly over it, waiting for the 
men to get his own yawl ready. It is true, the captain’s back 
was towards the dangerous object, and the planks of the bridge 
were partly between him and it; but there was a serious danger 
that was solely averted by the circumstance that Spike was so 
earnestly dilating on some subject to Don Juan, as to look only 
at that gentleman’s face. A minute later they were all in the 
yawl, which pulled rapidly towards the brig. 

Don Juan Montefalderon was not long absent. Ten minutes 
sufficed for the boat to reach the Swash, for him to obtain his 
cloak, and to return to the islet alone, no one in the vessel feel¬ 
ing a desire to interfere with his imaginary prayers. As for the 
people, it was not probable that one in the brig could have been 
induced to accompany him to the graves at that hour; though 
everybody but Josh had turned in, as he informed Mulford, to 
catch short naps previously to the hour of getting the brig 
under way. As for the steward, he had been placed on the 
look-out as the greatest idler on board. All this was exceed¬ 
ingly favorable to Jack Tier’s project, since Josh was already 


JACK TIER. 


391 


in the secret of his absence, and would not be likely to betray 
bis return. After a brief consultation, it was agreed to wait 
half an hour or an hour, in order to let the sleepers lose all 
consciousness, when Don Juan proposed returning to the vessel 
with bis new companion. 

The thirty or forty minutes that succeeded were passed in 
general conversation. On this occasion the Senor Montefalderon 
spoke more freely than he had yet done of recent events. He 
let it be plainly seen how much he despised Spike, and how 
irksome to him was the intercourse he was obliged to maintain, 
and to which he only submitted through a sense of duty. The 
money known to be in the schooner was of a larger amount 
than had been supposed; and every dollar was so important to 
Mexico, at that moment, that he did not like to abandon it, 
else, did he declare, that he would quit the brig at once, and 
share in the fortunes of Harry and Rose. He courteously ex¬ 
pressed his best wishes for the happiness of the young couple, 
and delicately intimated that, under the circumstances, he sup¬ 
posed that they would be united as soon as they could reach a 
place where the marriage rite could be celebrated. This was 
said in the most judicious way possible; so delicately as not 
to wound any one’s feelings, and in a way to cause it to re¬ 
semble the announcement of an expectation, rather than the 
piece of paternal advice for which it was really intended. 
Harry was delighted with this suggestion of his Mexican 
friend—the most loyal American may still have a sincere friend 
of Mexican birth and Mexican feelings, too—since it favored 
not only his secret wishes, but his secret expectations also. 

At the appointed moment, Don Juan Montefalderon and 
Jack Tier took their leave of the two they left behind them. 
Rose manifested what to Harry seemed a strange reluctance 
to part with the little steward; but Tier was bent on profiting 
by this excellent opportunity to get back to the brig. They 
went, accordingly, and the anxious listeners, who watched the 
slightest movement of the yawl, from the shore, had reason to 


392 


JACK TIER. 


believe that Jack was smuggled in without detection. They 
heard the familiar sound of the oar falling in the boat, and 
Mulford said that Josh’s voice might be distinguished, answering 
to a call from Don Juan. No noise or clamor was heard, such 
as Spike would certainly have made, had he detected the de¬ 
ception that had been practised on himself. 

Harry and Rose were now alone. The former suggested 
that the latter should take possession of one of the little bed¬ 
rooms that are usually to be found in American dwellings of the 
dimensions and humble character of the lighthouse abode, 
while he kept watch until the brig should sail. Until Spike 
was fairly off, he would not trust himself to sleep; but there 
was no sufficient reason why Rose should not endeavor to repair 
the evil of a broken night’s rest, like that which had been 
passed in the boat. With this understanding, then, our heroine 
took possession of her little apartment, where she threw her¬ 
self on the bed in her clothes, while Mulford walked out into 
the air, as the most effective means of helping to keep his eyes 
open. 

It was now some time past ten, and before eleven the moon 
would rise. The mate consequently knew that his watch could 
not be long before Spike would quit the neighborhood—a cir¬ 
cumstance pregnant with immense relief to him, at least. So 
long as that unscrupulous, and now nearly desperate man, re¬ 
mained anywhere near Rose, he felt that she could not be safe; 
and as he paced the sands, on the off or outer side of the islet, 
in order to be beyond the influence of the light in the lantern, 
his eye was scarcely a moment taken away from the Swash, so 
impatiently and anxiously did he wait for the signs of some 
movemeflt on board her. 

The moon rose, and Mulford heard the well-known raps on 
the booby-hatch, which precedes the call of “ all hands,” on 
board a merchantman. “ All hands up anchor, ahoy!” suc¬ 
ceeded, and in less than five minutes the bustle on board the 
brig announced the fact, that her people were “ getting the 


JACK TIEU. 


393 


anchor.” By this time it had got to be so light that the mate 
deemed it prudent to return to the house, in order that he 
might conceal his person within its shadows. Awake Rose he 
would not, though he knew she would witness the departure 
of the Swash with a satisfaction little short of his own. He 
thought he would wait, that when he did speak to her at all, 
it might be to announce their entire safety. As regarded the 
aunt. Rose was much relieved on her account, by the knowledge 
that Jack Tier would not fail to let Mrs. Budd know every 
thing connected with her own situation and prospects. The 
desertion of Jack, after coming so far with her, had pained our 
heroine in a way we cannot at present explain; but go he would, 
probably feeling assured there was no longer any necessity for 
his continuance with the lovers, in order to prevail on Rose to 
escape from Spike. 

The Swash was not long in getting her ground-tackle, and 
the brig was soon seen with her topsail aback, waiting to cat 
the anchor. This done, the yards swung round, and the topsail 
filled. It was blowing just a good breeze for such a craft to 
carry whole sail on a bowline with, and away the light and 
active craft started, like the racer that is galloping for daily 
exercise. Of course there were several passages by which a 
vessel might quit the group of islets, some being larger and 
some smaller, but all having sufficient water for a brigantine 
of the Molly’s draught. Determined not to lose an inch of 
distance unnecessarily, Spike luffed close up to the wind, making 
an effort to pass out to windward of the light. In order to do 
this, however, it became necessary for him to make two short 
tacks within the haven, which brought him far enough to the 
southward and eastward to effect his purpose. While this was 
doing, the mate, who perfectly understood the object of the 
manoeuvres, passed to the side of the lighthouse that was op¬ 
posite to that on which the dwelling was placed, with a view 
to get a better sight of the vessel as she stood out to sea. In 
order to do this, however, it was necessary for the young man 

17 ^ 


394 


JACK TIER. 


to pass through a broad bit of moonlight: but he trusted for 
his not being seen to the active manner in which all hands 
were employed on board the vessel. It would seem that, in 
this respect, Mulford trusted without his host, for as the vessel 
drew near, he perceived that six or eight figures were on the 
guns of the Swash, or in her rigging, gesticulating eagerly, and 
seemingly pointing to the very spot where he stood. When 
the brig got fairly abeam of the light, she would not be a hun¬ 
dred yards distant from it; and fearful to complete the exposure 
of his person, which he had so inadvertently and unexpectedly 
commenced, our mate drew up close to the wall of the light¬ 
house, against which he sustained himself in a position as im¬ 
movable as possible. This movement had been seen by a single 
seaman on board the Swash, and the man happened to be one 
of those who had landed with Spike only two hours before. 
His name was Barlow. 

“ Captain Spike, sir,” called out Barlow, who was coiling up 
rigging on the forecastle, and was consequently obliged to call 
out so loud as to be heard by all on board, “ yonder is a man 
at the foot of the lighthouse.” 

By this time, the moon coming out bright through an open¬ 
ing in the clouds, Mulford had become conscious of the risk he 
ran, and was drawn up, as immovable as the pile itself, against 
the stones of the lighthouse. Such an announcement brought 
everybody to leeward, and every head over the bulwarks. 
Spike himself sprang into the lee main-chains, where his view 
was unobstructed, and where Mulford saw and recognized him, 
even better than he was seen and recognized in his own per¬ 
son. All this time the brig was moving ahead. 

“ A man, Barlow !” exclaimed Spike, in the way one a little 
bewildered by an announcement expresses his surprise. “ A 
man ! that can never be. There is no one at the lighthouse, 
you know.” 

“ There he stands, sir, with his back to the tower, and his 
face this way. His dark figure against the whitewashed 


JACK TIER. 


395 


stones is plain enough to be seen. Living,' or dead, sir, that is 
the mate!” 

“ Living it cannot be,” answered Spike, though he gulped at 
the words the next moment. 

A general exclamation now showed that everybody recog¬ 
nized the mate, whose figure, stature, dress, and even features, 
w^ere by this time all tolerably distinct. The fixed attitude, 
how^ever, the immovable statue-like rigidity of the form, and 
all the other known circumstances of Harry’s case, united to 
produce a common and simultaneous impression among the 
superstitious mariners, that what they saw was but the ghostly 
shadow of one lately departed to the world of spirits. Even 
Spike was not free from this illusion, and his knees shook be¬ 
neath him, there where he stood, in the channels of a vessel 
that he had handled like a top in so many gales and tempests. 
With him, however, the illusion was neither absolute nor last¬ 
ing. A second thought told him it could scarcely be so, and 
then he found his voice. By this time the brig was nearly 
abreast of where Harry stood. 

“You, Josh!” cried out Spike, in a voice of thunder, loud 
enough to staitle even Mrs. Budd and Biddy in their berths. 

“ Lor’ help us all 1” answered the negro, “ what will come 
next t’ing aboard dis wessel 1 Here I be, sir.” 

“ Pass the fowling-piece out of my stateroom. Both barrels 
are loaded with ball; I’ll try him, though the bullets are only 
lead.” 

A common exclamation of dissatisfaction escaped the men, 
while Josh was obeying the order. “ It’s no use.” “ You 
never can hurt one of them things.” “ Something will befall 
the brig on account of this,” and “ It’s the mate’s sperit, and 
sperits can’t be harmed by lead or iron,” were the sort of 
remarks made by the seamen, during the short interval be¬ 
tween the issuing the order for the fowling-piece and its exe¬ 
cution. 

“ There ’tis, Cap’in Spike,” said Josh, passing the piece up 


396 


JACK TIER. 


through the rigging; “but ’twill no more shoot that thing, 
than one of our carronades would blow up Gibraltar.” 

By this time Spike was very determined, his lips being com¬ 
pressed and his teeth set, as he took the gun and cocked it. 
Then he hailed. As all that passed occurred, as it might be, 
at once, the brig even at that moment was little more than 
abreast of the immovable mate, and about eighty yards from 
him. 

“ Lighthouse, there!” cried Spike—“ Living or dead, answer, 
or I fire.” 

No answer came, and no motion appeared in the dark figure 
that was now very plainly visible, under a bright moon, drawn 
in high relief against the glittering white of the tower. Spike 
dropped the muzzle to its aim, and fired. 

So intense was the attention of all in the Swash, that a wink 
of Harry’s could almost have been seen, had he betrayed even 
that slight sign of human infirmity at the flash and the report. 
The ball was flattened against a stone of the building, within a 
foot of the mate’s body; but he did not stir. All depended 
now on his perfect immovability, as he well knew ; and he so 
far commanded himself, as to remain rigid as if of stone himself. 

“ There ! one can see how it is—no life in that being,” said 
one. “ I know’d how it would end,” added another. “ Nothing 
but silver, and that cast on purpose, will ever lay it,” continued 
a third. But Spike disregarded all. This time he was re¬ 
solved that his aim should be better, and he was inveterately 
deliberate in getting it. Just as he pulled the trigger, how¬ 
ever, Don Juan Montefalderon touched his elbow, the piece 
was fired, and there stood the immovable figure as before, fixed 
against the tower. Spike was turning angrily to chide his 
Mexican friend for deranging his aim, when the report of an 
answering musket came back like an echo. Every eye was 
turned towards the figure, but it moved not. Then the hum¬ 
ming sound of an advancing ball was heard, and a bullet passed, 
whistling hoarsely through the rigging, and fell some distance 


JACK TIER. 


397 


to windward. Every head disappeared below the bulwarks. 
Even Spike was so far astonished as to spring in upon deck, 
and, for a single instant, not a man was to be seen above the 
monkey-rail of the brig. Then Spike recovered himself, and 
jumped upon a gun. His first look was towards the lighthouse, 
now on the vessel’s lee-quarter; but the spot where had so 
lately been seen the form of Mulford, showed nothing but the 
glittering brightness of the whitewashed stones! 

The reader will not be surprised to learn that all these 
events produced a strange and deep impression on board the 
Molly Swash. The few who might have thrown a little light 
on the matter were discreetly silent, while all that portion of 
the crew which was in the dark, firmly believed that the spirit 
of the murdered mate was visiting them, in order to avenge 
the wrongs inflicted on it in the flesh. The superstition of 
sailors is as deep as it is general. All those of the Molly, too, 
were salts of the old school, sea-dogs of a past generation, prop¬ 
erly speaking, and mariners who had got their notions in the 
early part of the century, when the spirit of progress was less 
active than it is at present. 

Spike himself might have had other misgivings, and believed 
that he had seen the living form of his intended victim, but for 
the extraordinary and ghost-like echo of his last discharge. 
There was nothing visible, or intelligible, from which that fire 
could have come, and he was perfectly bewildered by the whole 
occurrence. An intention to round-to, as soon as through the 
passage, down boat and land, which had been promptly con¬ 
ceived when he found that his first aim had failed, was as sud¬ 
denly abandoned, and he gave the command to “ board fore- 
tack immediately after, his call was to “ pack on the brig,” 
and not without a little tremor in his voice, as soon as he per¬ 
ceived that the figure had vanished. The crew was not slow 
to obey these orders, and in ten minutes, the Swash was a mile 
from the light, standing to the northward and eastward, under 
a press of canvas, and with a freshening breeze. 


398 


JACK TIER. 


To return to the islets. Hariy, from the first, had seen that 
every thing depended on his remaining motionless. As the 
people of the brig were partly in shadow, he could not, and 
did not, fully understand how completely he was himself ex¬ 
posed, in consequence of the brightness of all around him, and 
he had at first hoped to be mistaken for some accidental re¬ 
semblance to a man. His nerves were well tried by the use 
of the fowling-piece, but they proved equal to the necessities 
of the occasion. But, when an answering report came from 
the rear, or from the opposite side of the islet, he darted round 
the tower, as much taken by surprise, and overcome by wonder, 
as any one else who heard it. It was this rapid movement 
which caused his flight to be unnoticed, all the men of the 
brig dodging below their own bulwarks at that precise instant. 

As the lighthouse was now between the mate and the brig, 
he had no longer any motive for trying to conceal himself. 
His first thought was of Rose, and, strange as it may seem, for 
some little time he fancied that she had found a musket in the 
dwelling, and discharged it, in order to aid his escape. The 
events had passed so swiftly, that there was no time for the 
cool consideration of any thing, and it is not surprising that 
some extravagances mingled with the first surmises of all 
these. 

On reaching the door of the house, therefore, Harry was by 
no means surprised at seeing Rose standing in it, gazing at the 
swiftly receding brigantine. He even looked for the musket, 
expecting to see it lying at her feet, or leaning against the wall 
of the building. Rose, however, was entirely unarmed, and 
as dependent on him for support, as when he had parted from 
her, an hour or two before. 

“ Where did you find that musket. Rose, and what have you 
done with it ?” inquired Harry, as soon as he had looked in 
every place he thought likely to hold such an implement. 

“ Musket, Harry ! I have had no musket, though the report 
of firearms, near by, awoke me from a sweet sleep.” 


JACK TIER. 


399 


“ Is this possible ! I had imprudently trusted myself on the 
other side of the lighthouse, while the moon was behind 
clouds, and when they broke suddenly aAvay, its light betrayed 
me to those on board the brig. Spike fired at me twice, with¬ 
out injuring me ; when, to my astonishment, an answering re¬ 
port was heard from the islet. What is more, the piece was 
charged with a ball-cartridge, for I heard the whistling of the 
bullet as it passed on its way to the brig.” 

“ And you supposed I had fired that musket?” 

“ Whom else could I suppose had done it ? You are not a 
very likely person to do such a thing, I will own, my love; but 
there are none but us two here.” 

“ It must be Jack Tier,” exclaimed Rose, suddenly. 

“ That is impossible, since he has left us.” 

“ One never knows. Jack understood how anxious I was to 
retain him with us, and he is so capricious and full of schemes, 
that he may have contrived to get out of the brig, as artfully as 
he got on board her.” 

“ If Jack Tier be actually on this islet, I shall set him down 
as little else than a conjuror.” 

“ Hist!” interrupted Rose, “ what noise is that in the di¬ 
rection of the wharf ? It sounds like an oar falling in a boat.” 

Mulford heard that well-known sound, as well as his com¬ 
panion, and, followed by Rose, he passed swiftly through the 
house, coming out at the front, next the wharf. The moon 
was still shining bright, and the mystery of the echoing report, 
and answering shot, was immediately explained. A large boat, 
one that pulled ten oars, at least, was just coming up to the 
end of the wharf, and the manner in which its oars were un¬ 
shipped and tossed, announced to the mate that the crew were 
man-of-war’s men. He walked hastily forward to meet them. 

Three officers first left the boat together. The gold bands 
of their caps showed that they belonged to the quarter-deck, a 
fact that the light of the moon made apparent at once, though 
it was not strong enough to render features distinct. As Mul- 


400 


JACK TIER. 


ford continued to advance, however, the three officers saluted 
him. 

“ I see you have got the light under way once more,” ob¬ 
served the leader of the party. “ Last night it was as dark as 
Erebus in your lantern.” 

“ The lighthouse keeper and his assistant have both been 
drowned,” answered Mulford. “ The lamps have been lit to¬ 
night by the people of the brig which has just gone out.” 

“ Pray, sir, what brig may that be ?” 

“ The Molly Swash, of New York ; a craft that I lately be¬ 
longed to myself, but which I have left on account of her evil 
doings.” 

“ The Molly Swash, Stephen Spike master and owner, bound 
to Key West and a market, with a cargo of eight hundred 
barrels of flour, and that of a quality so lively and pungent 
that it explodes like gunpowder! I beg your pardon, Mr. 
Mate, for not recognizing you sooner. Have you forgotten the 
Poughkeepsie, Captain Mull, and her far-reaching Paixhans ?” 

“I ought to ask your pardon, Mr. Wallace, for not recogniz¬ 
ing you sooner, too. But one does not distinguish well by 
moonlight. I am delighted to see you, sir, and now hope that, 
with my assistance, a stop can be put to the career of the 
brig.” 

“ What, Mr. Mate, do you turn against your craft ?” said 
Wallace, under the impulsive feeling which induces all loyal 
men to have a distaste for treachery of every sort. “ The sea¬ 
man should love the very planks of his vessel.” 

“ I fully understand you, Mr. Wallace, and will own that 
for a long time, I was tied to rascality by the opinions to which 
you allude. But, when you come to hear my explanation, I 
do not fear your judgment in the least.” 

Mulford now led the way into the house, whither Rose had 
already retreated, and where she had lighted candles, and 
made other womanly arrangements for receiving her guests. 
At Harry’s suggestion, some of the soup was placed over coals, 


JACK TIER. 


4Ui 

to warm up for the party, and our heroine made her prepara¬ 
tions to comfort them also with a cup of tea. While she was 
thus employed, Mulford gave the whole history of his connec¬ 
tion with the brig, his indisposition to quit the latter, the full 
exposure of Spike’s treason, his own desertion, if desertion it 
could be called, the loss of the schooner, and his abandonment 
on the rock, and the manner in which he had been finally re¬ 
lieved. It was scarcely possible to relate all these matters, 
and altogether avoid allusions to the schemes of Spike in con¬ 
nection with Eose, and the relation in which our young man 
himself stood towards her. Although Mulford touched on 
these points with great delicacy, it was as a seaman talking to 
seamen, and he could not entirely throw aside the frankness 
of the profession. Ashore, men live in the privacy of their 
own domestic circles, and their secrets, and secret thoughts, 
are “ family secrets,” of which it has passed into a proverb to 
say, that there are always some, even in the best of these com¬ 
munities. On shipboard, or in the camp, it is very difierent. 
The close contact in which men are brought with each other, 
the necessity that exists for opening the heart and expanding 
the charities, gets in time to infiuence the whole character, and 
a certain degree of frankness and simplicity takes the place of 
the reserve and acting that might have been quickened in the 
same individual, under a different system of schooling. But 
Mulford was frank by nature, as well as by his sea-education, 
and his companions on this occasion were pretty well possessed 
of all his wishes and plans, in reference to Rose, even to his 
hope of falling in with the chaplain of the Poughkeepsie, by 
the time his story was all told. The fact that Eose was occu¬ 
pied in another room, most of the time, had made these ex¬ 
planations all the easier, and spared her many a blush. As for 
the man-of-war’s men, they listened to the tale, with manly in¬ 
terest and a generous sympathy. 

“ I am glad to hear your explanation, Mr. Mate,” said AVal- 
lace, cordially, as soon as Harry had done, “ and there’s my 


402 


JACK TIER. 


liand, in proof that I approve of your course. I own to a 
radical dislike of a turncoat, or a traitor to his craft, Brother 
Hollins”—looking at the elder of his two companions, one of 
whom was the midshipman who had originally accompanied 
him on board the Swash—“ and am glad to find that our fiiend 
Mulford here is neither. A true-hearted sailor can be ex¬ 
cused for deserting even his own ship, under such circum¬ 
stances.” 

“ I am glad to hear even this little concession from you, 
Wallace,” answered Hollins, good-naturedly, and speaking with 
a mild expression of benevolence, on a very calm and thought¬ 
ful countenance. “Your mess is as heterodox as any I ever 
sailed with, on the subject of our duties, in this respect.” 

“ I hold it to be a sailor’s duty to stick by his ship, reverend 
and dear sir.” 

This mode of address, which was used by the “ ship’s gentle¬ 
man” in the cant of the wardroom, as a pleasantry of an old 
shipmate, for the two had long sailed together in other vessels, 
at once announced to Harry that he saw the very chaplain for 
whose presence he had been so anxiously wishing. The “ reve¬ 
rend and dear sir” smiled at the sally of his friend, a sort of 
thing to which he Avas very well accustomed, but he answered 
with a gravity and point that, it is to be presumed, he thought 
befitting his holy office. 

It may be Avell to remark here, that the Rev. Mr. Hollins 
was not one of the “ launch’d chaplains,” that used to do dis¬ 
credit to the navy of this country, or a layman dubbed with 
such a title, and rated that he might get the pay and become 
a boon companion of the captain, at the table and in his frolics 
ashore. Those days are gone by, and ministers of the Gospel 
are now really employed to care for the souls of the poor sail¬ 
ors, who so long have been treated by others, and have treated 
themselves, indeed, as if they were beings without souls, alto¬ 
gether. In these particulars, the world has certainly advanced, 
though the wise and the good, in looking around them, may 


JACK TIER. 


403 


feel more cause for astonishment in contemplating what it once 
was, than to rejoice in what it actually is. But intellect has 
certainly improved in the aggregate, if not in its especial dis¬ 
pensations, and men will not now submit to abuses that, within 
the recollections of a generation, they even cherished. In 
reference to the more intellectual appointments of a ship of 
war, the commander excepted, for we contend he who directs 
all, ought to possess the most capacity, but, in reference to 
what are ordinarily believed to be the more intellectual ap¬ 
pointments of a vessel of war, the surgeon and the chaplain, 
we well recollect opinions that were expressed to us, many 
years since, by two officers of the highest rank known to the 
service. “ When I first entered the navy,” said one of these 
old Benbows, “ if I had occasion for the amputation of a leg, 
and the question lay between the carpenter and the doctor, 

d-e, but I would have tried the carpenter first, for I felt 

pretty certain he would have been the most likely to get 
through with the job.” “ In old times,” said the other, “ when 
a chaplain joined a ship, the question immediately arose, 
whether the mess were to convert the chaplain, or the chaplain 
the mess; and the mess generally got the best of it.” There 
was very little exaggeration in either of these opinions. But, 
happily, all this is changed vastly for the better, and a navy- 
surgeon is necessarily a man of education and experience; in 
very many instances, men of high talents are to be found 
among them; while chaplains can do something better than 
play at backgammon, eat terrapins, when in what may be 
called terrapin-ports, and drink brandy and water, or pure Bob 
Smith.* 

“It is a great mistake, Wallace, to fancy that the highest 
duty a man owes, is either to his ship or to his country,” ob¬ 
served the Rev. Mr. Hollins, quietly. “ The highest duty of 
each and all of us, is to God; and whatever conflicts with that 

♦ In the palmy days of the service, when Robert Smith was so long Secretary of 
the Navy, the ship’s whisky went by this familiar sobriquet. 



404 


JACK TIER. 


duty, must be avoided as a transgression of his laws, and con¬ 
sequently as sin.” 

“You surprise me, reverend and dear sir! I do not remem¬ 
ber ever to have heard you broach such opinions- before, which 
might be interpreted to mean that a fellow might be disloyal 
to his flag.” 

“Because the opinion might be liable to misinterpretation. 
Still, I do not go as far as many of my fiiends on this subject. 
If Decatur ever really said, ‘ Our country, right or wrong,’ he 
said what might be just enough, and creditable enough, in cer¬ 
tain cases, and taken with the fair limitations that he probably 
intended should accompany the sentiment; but, if he meant it 
as an absolute and controlling principle, it was not possible to 
be more in error. In this last sense, such a rule of conduct 
might, and in old times often would, have justified idolatry; 
nay, it is a species of idolatry in itself, since it is putting coun¬ 
try before God. Sailors may not always be able to make the 
just distinctions in these cases, but the quarter-deck should be 
so, ^rreverend and dear sir.” 

Wallace laughed, and then he turned the discourse to the 
subject more properly before them. 

“ I understand you to say, Mr. Mulford,” he remarked, “that, 
in your opinion, the Swash has gone to try to raise the unfor¬ 
tunate Mexican schooner, a second time, from the depths of the 
ocean ?” 

“From the rock on which she lies. Under the circum¬ 
stances, I hardly think he would have come hither for the 
chain and cable, unless with some such object. We know, 
moreover, that such was his intention when we left the brig.” 

“ And you can take us to the very spot where that wreck 
lies ?” 

“ Without any difficulty. Her masts are partly out of water, 
and we hung on to them, in our boat, no later than last night, 
or this morning rather.” 

“So far, well. Your conduct in all this affair will be duly 


JACK TIER. 


405 


appreciated, and Captain Mull will not fail to represent it in a 
right point of view to the government.” 

“ Where is the ship, sir ? I looked for her most anxiously, 
without success, last evening; nor had Jack Tier, the little 
fellow I have named to you, any better luck; though I sent 
him aloft, as high as the lantern in the lighthouse, for that 
purpose.” 

“ The ship is off here to the northward and westward, some 
six leagues or so. At sunset she may have been a little farther. 
We have supposed that the Swash would be coming back 
hither, and had laid a trap for her, which came very near tak¬ 
ing her alive.” 

“ What is the trap you mean, sir ?—though taking Stephen 
Spike alive, is sooner said than done.” 

“ Our plan has been to catch him with our boats. With 
the greater draught of water of the Poughkeepsie, and the heels 
of your brig, sir, a regular chase about these reefs, as we knew 
from experience, would be almost hopeless. It was, therefore, 
necessary to use head-work, and some man-of-war traverses, in 
order to lay hold of him. Yesterday afternoon we hoisted out 
three cutters, manned them, and made sail in them all, under 
our luggs, working up against the trades. Each boat took its 
own course, one going off the west end of the reef, one going 
more to the eastward, while I came this way, to look in at the 
Dry Tortugas. Spike will be lucky if he do not fall in with 
our third cutter, which is under the fourth lieutenant, should 
he stand on far on the same tack as that on which he left this 
place. Let him try his fortune, however. ‘ As for our boat, as 
soon as I saw the lamps burning in the lantern, I made the 
best of my way hither, and got sight of the brig, just as she 
loosened her sails. Then I took in my own luggs, and came 
on with the oars. Had we continued under our canvas, with 
this breeze, I almost think we might have overhauled the 
rascal.” 

“It would have been impossible, sir. The moment he got 


406 


JACK TIER. 


a siglit of your sails, lie would have been off in a contrary 
direction, and that brig really seems to fly, whenever there is 
a pressing occasion for her to move. You did the wisest thing 
you could have done, and barely missed him, as it was. He 
has not seen you at all, as it is, and will be all the less on his 
guard, against the next visit from the ship.” 

“ Not seen me ! Why, sir, the fellow fired at us twice with 
a musket; why he did not use a carronade, is more than I can 
tell.” 

“Excuse me, Mr. Wallace; those two shots were intended 
for me, though I now fully comprehend why you answered 
them.” 

“ Answered them! yes, indeed; who would not answer such 
a salute, and gun for gun, if he had a chance ? I certainly 
thought he was firing at us, and having a musket between my 
legs, I let fly in return, and even the chaplain here will allow 
that was returning ‘ good for evil.” But explain your mean¬ 
ing.” 

Mulford now went into the details of the incidents connected 
with his coming into the moonlight, at the foot of the light¬ 
house. That he was not mistaken as to the party for whom 
the shots were intended, was plain enough to him, from the 
words that passed aloud among the people of the Swash, as 
well as from the circumstance that both balls struck the stones 
of the tower quite near him. This statement explained every 
thing to Wallace, who now fully comprehended the cause and 
motive of each incident. 

It was now near eleven, and Rose had prepared the table 
for supper. The gentlemen of the Poughkeepsie manifested 
great interest in the movements of the Hebe-like little atten¬ 
dant who was caring for their wants. When the cloth was to 
be laid, the midshipman offered his assistance, but his superior 
directed him to send a hand or two up from the wharf, where 
the crew of the cutter were lounging or sleeping after their 
cruise. These men had been thought of, too; and a vessel 


JACK TIER. 


407 


filled with smoking soup was taken to them, by one of their 
own number. 

The supper was as cheerful as it was excellent. The dry 
humor of Wallace, the mild intelligence of the chaplain, the 
good sense of Harry, and the spirited information of Rose, con¬ 
tributed, each in its particular w^ay, to make the meal memorable 
in more senses than one. The laugh came easily at that table, 
and it was twelve o’clock before the party thought of break¬ 
ing up. 

The dispositions for the night were soon made. Rose re¬ 
turned to her little room, where she could now sleep in com¬ 
fort, and without apprehension. The gentlemen made the best 
disposition of their persons that circumstances allowed; each 
finding something on which to repose, that was preferable to a 
plank. As for the men, they were accustomed to hard fare, 
and enjoyed their present good-luck, to the top of their bent. 
It was quite late before they had done “ spinning their yarns,” 
and “ cracking their jokes,” around the pot of turtle-soup, and 
the can of grog that succeeded it. By half past twelve, how¬ 
ever, everybody was asleep. 

Mulford was the first person afoot the following morning. 
He left the house just as the sun rose, and perceiving that the 
“ coast was clear” of sharks, he threw off his light attire, and 
plunged into the sea. Refreshed with this indulgence, he was 
returning towards the building, when he met the chaplain com¬ 
ing in quest of him. This gentleman, a man of real piety, and 
of great discretion, had been singularly struck, on the preceding 
night, with the narrative of our young mate; and he had not 
failed to note the allusions, slight as they were, and delicately 
put as they had been, to himself. He saw, at once, the pro¬ 
priety of marrying a couple so situated, and now sought Harry, 
with a view to bring about so desirable an event, by intimat¬ 
ing his entire willingness to officiate. It is scarcely necessary 
to say that very few words were wanting, to persuade the young 
man to fall into his views; and as to Rose, he had handed her 


408 


JACK TIER. 


a short note on the same subject, which he was of opinion 
would be likely to bring her to the same way of thinking. 

An hour later, all the officers, Harry and Rose, were assem¬ 
bled in what might be termed the lighthouse parlor. The 
Rev. Mr. Hollins had neither band, gown, nor surplice; but he 
had what was far better, feeling and piety. Without a prayer- 
book he never moved; and he read the marriage ceremony 
with a solemnity that was communicated to all present. The 
ring was that which had been used at the marriage of Rose’s 
parents, and which she wore habitually, though not on the left 
hand. In a word, Harry and Rose were as firmly and legally 
united, on that solitary and almost unknown islet, as could 
have been the case, had they stood up before the altar of 
mother Trinity itself, with a bishop to officiate, and a legion of 
attendants. After the compliments which succeeded the cere¬ 
mony, the whole party sat down to breakfast. 

If the supper had been agreeable, the morning meal was not 
less so. Rose was timid and blushing, as became a bride, 
though she could not but feel how much more respectable her 
position became under the protection of Harry as his wife, than 
it had been while she was only his betrothed. The most deli¬ 
cate deportment, on the part of her companions, soon relieved 
her embarrassment, however, and the breakfast passed off* with¬ 
out cause for an unhappy moment. 

“ The ship’s standing in towards the light, sir,” reported the 
cockswain of the cutter, as the party was still lingering around 
the table, as if unwilling to bring so pleasant a meal to a close. 
“ Since the mist has broke away, we see her, sir, even to her 
ports and dead-eyes.” 

“In that case, Sam, she can’t be very far off,” answered 
Wallace. “ Ay, there goes a gun from her, at this moment, as 
much as to say, ‘ what has become of all of my boats ?’ Run 
down and let off a musket; perhaps she will make out to hear 
that, as we must be rather to windward, if any thing.” 

The signal was given and understood. A quarter of an hour 


JACK TIER. 


409 


later, the Poughkeepsie began to shorten sail. Then Wallace 
stationed himself in the cutter, in the centre of one of the pas¬ 
sages, signalling the ship to come on. Ten minutes later still, 
the noble craft came into the haven, passing the still burning 
light, with her topsails just lifting; and making a graceful 
sweep under very reduced sail, she came to the wind, very near 
the spot where the Swash had lain only ten hours before, and 
dropped an anchor. 


18 


410 


JACK TIER, 


CHAPTER XIII. 

“ The gull has found her place on shore; 

The sun gone down again to rest; 

And all is still but ocean’s roar; 

There stands the man unbless’d. 

But see, he moves—he turns, as asking where 

His mates ? Why looks he with that piteous stare ?” 

Dana. 

Superstition would seem to be a consequence of a state of 
being, in which so much is shadowed forth, while so little is 
accurately known. Our far-reaching thoughts range over the 
vast fields of created things, without penetrating to the secret 
cause of the existence of even a blade of grass. We can ana¬ 
lyze all substances that are brought into our crucibles, tell their 
combinations and tendencies, give a scientific history of th'eir 
formation, so far as it is connected with secondary facts, their 
properties, and their uses; but in each and all, there is a latent 
natural cause, that baffles all our inquiries, and tells us that we 
are merely men. This is just as true in morals, as in physics 
—no man living being equal to attaining the very faith that is 
necessary to his salvation, without the special aid of the Spirit 
of the Godhead; and even with that mighty support, trusting 
implicitly for all that is connected with a future that we are 
taught to believe is eternal, to “ the substance of things hoped 
for, and the evidence of things unseen^ In a word, this earth¬ 
ly probation of ours was intended for finite beings, in the sense 
of our present existence, leaving far more to be conjectured, 
than is understood. 

Ignorance and superstition ever bear a close, and even a 


JACK TIER. 


411 


mathematical relation to each other. The degrees of the one 
are regulated by the degrees of the other. He who knows the 
least believes the most; while he who has seen the most, with¬ 
out the intelligence to comprehend that which he has seen, 
feels, perhaps, the strongest inclination to refer those things 
which to him are mysteries, to the supernatural and marvel¬ 
lous. Sailors have been, from time immemorial, more disposed 
than men of their class on the land, to indulge in this weak¬ 
ness, which is probably heightened by the circumstance of their 
living constantly and vividly in the presence of powers that 
menace equally their lives and their means, without being in 
any manner subject to their control. 

Spike, for a seaman of his degree of education, was not partic¬ 
ularly addicted to the weakness to which we have just alluded. 
Nevertheless, he was not altogether free from it; and recent cir¬ 
cumstances contributed to dispose him so much the more to admit 
a feeling which, like sin itself, is ever the most apt to insinuate 
itself at moments of extraordinary moral imbecility, and through 
the openings left by previous transgression. As his brig stood 
off from the light, the captain paced the deck, greatly dis¬ 
turbed by what had just passed, and unable to account for it. 
The boat of the Poughkeepsie was entirely concealed by the 
islet, and there existing no obvious motive for wishing to re¬ 
turn, in order to come at the truth, not a thought to that 
effect, for one moment, crossed the mind of the smuggler. So 
far from this, indeed, were his wishes, that the Molly did not 
seem to him to go half as fast as usual, in his keen desire to 
get farther and farther from a spot where such strange inci¬ 
dents had occurred. 

As for the men forward, no argument was wanting to make 
them believe that something supernatural had just passed be¬ 
fore their eyes. It was known to them all, that Mulford had 
been left on a naked rock, some thirty miles from that spot; 
and it was not easy to understand how he could now be at the 
Dry Tortugas, planted, as it might be, on purpose to show him- 


412 


JACK TIER. 


self to the brig, against the tower, in the bright moonlight, 
“ like a pictiir’ hung up for his old shipmates to look at.” 

Sombre were the tales that were related that night among 
them, many of which related to the sufferings of men aban¬ 
doned on desert islands; and all of which bordered, more or 
less, on the supernatural. The crew connected the disappear¬ 
ance of the boat with Mulford’s apparition, though the logical 
inference would have been, that the body which required planks 
to transport it, could scarcely be classed with any thing of the 
world of spirits. The links in arguments, however, are seldom 
respected by the illiterate and vulgar, who jump to their con¬ 
clusions, in cases of the marvellous, much as politicians find an 
expression of the common mind in the prepared opinions of the 
few who speak for them, totally disregarding the dissenting 
silence of the million. While the men were first comparing 
their opinions on that which, to them, seemed to be so extra¬ 
ordinary, the Senor Montefalderon joined the captain in his 
walk, and dropped into a discourse touching the events which 
had attended their departure from the haven of the Dry Tor- 
tugas. 

In this conversation, Don Juan most admirably preserved 
his countenance, as well as his self-command, effectually pre¬ 
venting the suspicion of any knowledge on his part that was 
not common to them both. 

“You did leave the port with the salutes observed,” the 
Mexican commenced, with the slightest accent of a foreigner, 
or just enough to show that he was not speaking in his mother- 
tongue ; “ salutes paid and returned.” 

“ Do you call that saluting, Don Wan ? To me, that infer¬ 
nal shot sounded more like an echo than any thing else.” 

“ And to what do you ascribe it, Don Esteban ?” 

“ I wish I could answer that question. Sometimes I begin 
to wish I had not left my mate on that naked rock.” 

“ There is still time to repair the last wrong; we shall go 
within a few miles of the place where the Senor Enrique was 


JACK TIER. 


413 


left; and I can take the yawl, with two men, and go in search 
of him, while you are at w^ork on the wreck ” 

“ Do you believe it possible that he can be still there ?” de¬ 
manded Spike, looking suddenly and intently at his companion, 
while his mind was strangely agitated between hatred and 
dread. “ If he is there, who and what was he that we all saw 
so plainly at the foot of the lighthouse ?” 

“ How should he have left the rock ? He was without food 
or w'ater; and no man, in all his vigor, could swim this dis¬ 
tance. I see no means of his getting here.” 

“ Unless some wrecker or turtler fell in with him, and took 
him off. Ay, ay, Don Wan; I left him that much of a chance, 
at least. No man can say I murdered my mate.” 

“ I am not aware, Don Esteban, that any one has said so 
hard a thing of you. Still, w^e have seen neither wrecker nor 
turtler since we have been here; and that lessens the excellent 
chance you left Don Enrique.” 

“ There is no occasion, senor, to be so particular,” growled 
Spike, a little sullenly, in reply. “ The chance, I say, w'as a 
good one, when you consider how many of them devils of 
wreckers hang about these reefs. Let this brig only get fast 
on a rock, and they would turn up, like sharks, all around us, 
each with his maw open for salvage. But this is neither here 
nor there; what puzzles me, w^as what we saw at the light, 
half an hour since, and the musket that was fired back at us ! 
I know that the figure at the foot of the tower did not fire, for 
my eye was on him from first to last, and he had no arms. 
You were on the island a good bit, and must have known if the 
lighthouse keeper was there or not, Don Wan.” 

“The lighthouse keeper was there, Don Esteban—but he 
was in his graved 

“ Ay, ay, one, I know, was drowned, and buried with the rest 
of them; there might, however, have been more than one. 
You saw none of the people that had gone to Key West in or 
about the house, Don Wan ?” 


414 


JACK TIER. 


“None. If any persons have left the Tortugas to go to 
Key West, within a few days, not one of them has yet re¬ 
turned.” 

“ So I supposed. No, it can be none of them. Then I saw 
his face as plainly as ever I saw it by moonlight, from aft, 
for’ard. What is your opinion about seeing the dead walk on 
the ’arth, Don Wan ?” 

“ That I have never seen any such thing myself, Don Este¬ 
ban, and consequently know nothing about it.” 

“ So I supposed ; I find it hard to believe it, I do. It may 
be a warning to keep us from coming any more to the Dry 
Tortugas; and I must say I have little heart for returning to 
this place, after all that has fell out here. We can go to the 
wreck, fish up the doubloons, and be off* for Yucatan. Once 
in one of your ports, I make no question that the merits of the 
Molly will make themselves understood, and that we shall soon 
agree on a price.” 

“ What use could we put the brig to, Don Esteban, if we 
had her all ready for sea ?” 

“ That is a strange question to ask in time of war ! Give 
me such a craft as the Molly, with sixty or eighty men on board 
her, in a war like this, and her ’arnin’s should not fall short 
of half a million within a twelvemonth.” 

“ Could we engage you to take charge of her, Don Esteban ?” 

“ That would be ticklish work, Don Wan. But we can see. 
No one knows what he will do until he is tried. In for a 
penny, in for a pound. A fellow never knows ! Ha ! ha! ha! 
Don Wan, we live in a strange world—yes, in a strange world.” 

“We live in strange times., Don Esteban, as the situation 
of my poor country proves. But let us talk this matter over 
a little more in confidence.” 

And they did thus discuss the subject. It was a singular 
spectacle to see an honorable man, one full of zeal of the purest 
nature in behalf of his own country, sounding a traitor as to 
the terms on which he might be induced to do all the harm 


JACK TIER. 


415 


he could to those who claimed his allegiance. Such sights, 
however, are often seen; our own especial objects too fre¬ 
quently blinding us to the obligations that we owe morality, 
so far as not to be instrumental in effecting even what we con¬ 
ceive to be good, by questionable agencies. But the Senor 
Montefalderon kept in view, principally, his desire to be useful 
to Mexico, blended a little too strongly, perhaps, with the 
wishes of a man who was born near the sun, to avenge his 
wrongs, real or fancied. 

While this dialogue was going on between Spike and his 
passenger, as they paced the quarter-deck, one quite as charac¬ 
teristic occurred in the galley, within twenty feet of them : 
Simon, the cook, and Josh, the steward, being the interlocu¬ 
tors. As they talked secrets, they conferred together with 
closed doors, though few were ever disposed to encounter the 
smoke, grease, and fumes of their narrow domains, unless called 
thither by hunger. 

“ What you t’ink of dis matter. Josh ?” demanded Simon, 
whose skull having the well-known density of his race, did 
not let internal ideas out, or external ideas in, as readily as 
most men’s. “ Our young mate was at de lighthouse beyond 
all controwersy; and how can he be den on dat rock over 
yonder, too ?” 

“Dat is imposserbul,” answered Josh; “derefore I says it 
isn’t true. I surposes you know dat what is imposserbul isn’t 
true, Simon. Nobody can’t be out yonder and down here 
at de same time. Dat is imposserbul, Simon. But what I 
wants to intermate to you, will explain all dis difficulty; and 
it do show de raal super’ority of a colored man over de white 
poperlation. Now, you mark my words, cook, and be full of 
admiration! Jack Tier came back along wid de Mexican 
gentle’ern, in my anchor-watch, dis very night! You see, in 
de fust place, ebbery t’ing come to pass in nigger’s watch.” 

Here the two dark-skinned worthies haw-haw’d to their 
hearts’ content; laughing very much as a magistrate or a min- 


416 


JACK TIER. 


ister of the Gospel might be fancied to laugh, the first time he 
saw a clown at a circus. The merriment of a negro will have 
its course, in spite of ghosts, or of any thing else; and neither 
the cook nor the steward dreamed of putting in another syl¬ 
lable, until their laugh was fairly and duly ended. Then the 
cook made his remarks. 

“ How Jack Tier cornin’ back explain der differculty. Josh ?” 
asked Simon. 

“ Didn’t Jack go away wid Miss Rose and de mate, in de 
boat dat got adrift, you know, in Jack’s watch on deck ?” 

Here the negroes laughed again, their imaginations happen¬ 
ing to picture to each, at the same instant, the mystification 
about the boat; Biddy having told Josh in confidence, the 
manner in which the party had returned to the brig, while he 
and Simon were asleep; which fact the steward had already 
communicated to the cook. To these two beings, of an order 
in nature different from all around them, and of a simplicity 
and of habits that scarce placed them on a level with the in¬ 
telligence of the humblest white man, all these circumstances 
had a sort of mysterious connection, out of which peeped 
much the most conspicuously to their faculties, the absurdity 
of the captain’s imagining that a boat had got adrift, which 
had, in truth, been taken away by human hands. Accordingly, 
they laughed it out; and when they had done laughing, they 
returned again to the matter before them with renewed inter¬ 
est in the subject. 

“ Well, how all dat explain dis differculty ?” repeated Simon. 

“ In dis wery manner, cook,” returned the steward, with a 
little dignity in his manner. “ Ebbery t’ing depend on under- 
standin’, I s’pose you know. If Mr. Mulford got taken off dat 
rock by Miss Rose and Jack Tier, wid de boat, and den dey 
comes here altogedder; and den Jack Tier, he get on board 
and tell Biddy all this matter, aud den Biddy tell Josh, and 
den Josh tell de cook—what for you surprise, you black debbil, 
one bit?^’ 


JACK TIER. 


417 


“ Dat all!” exclaimed Simon. 

“ Dat just all—dat ebbery bit of it, don’t I say.” 

Here Simon burst into such a fit of loud laughter, that it 
induced Spike himself to shove aside the galley-door, and 
thrust his own frowning visage into the dark hole within, to 
inquire the cause. 

“ What’s the meaning of this uproar ?” demanded the cap¬ 
tain, all the more excited because he felt that things had 
reached a pass that would not permit him to laugh himself. 
“ Do you fancy yourself on the Hook, or at the Five Points ?” 

The Hook and the Five Points are two pieces of tabooed 
territory, within the limits of the good town of Manhattan, that 
are getting to be renowned for their rascality and orgies. 
They probably want nothing but the proclamation of a gov¬ 
ernor in vindication of their principles, annexed to a pardon of 
some of their unfortunate children, to render both classical. 
If we continue to make much further progress in political logic, 
and in the same direction as that in which we. have already 
proceeded so far, neither will probably long be in want of this 
illustration. Votes can be given by the virtuous citizens of 
both these purlieus, as well as by the virtuous citizens of the 
anti-rent districts, and votes contain the essence of all such 
principles, as well as of their glorification. 

“Do you fancy yourselves on the Hook, or at the Five 
Points ?” demanded Spike, angrily. 

“ Lor’, no sir!” answered Simon, laughing at each pause 
with all his heart. “Only laughs a little at ghost —dat all, sir.” 

“Laugh at ghost? Is that a subject to laugh at? Have a 
care, you black rascal, or he will visit you in your galley here, 
when you will least want to see him.” 

“No care much for him^ sir,” returned Simon, laughing 
away as hard as ever. “ Sich a ghost oughtn’t to skear little 
baby.” 

“ Such a ghost ? And what do you know of this ghost more 
than any other ?” 


18 ^ 


418 


JACK TIER. 


“Well, I seed him, Cap’in Spike; and what a body sees, he 
is acquainted wid.” 

“You saw an image that looked as much like Mr. Mulford, 
my late mate, as one timber-head in this brig is like another.” 

“Yes, sir, he like enough—must say dat —so wery like, 
couldn’t see any difference.” 

As Simon concluded this remark, he burst out into another 
fit of laughter, in which Josh joined him, heart and soul, as it 
might be. The uninitiated reader is not to imagine the laugh¬ 
ter of those blacks to be very noisy, or to be raised on a sharp, 
high key. They could make the welkin ring, in sudden bursts 
of merriment, on occasion; but, at a time like this, they rather 
caused their diversion to be developed by sounds that came 
from the depths of their chests. A gleam of suspicion that 
these blacks were acquainted with some fact that it might be 
well for him to know, shot across the mind of Spike; but he 
was turned from further inquiry by a remark of Don Juan, who 
intimated that the mirth of such persons never had much 
meaning to it, expressing at the same time a desire to pursue 
the more important subject in which they were engaged. Ad¬ 
monishing the blacks to be more guarded in their manifesta¬ 
tions of merriment, the captain closed the door on them, and 
resumed his walk up and down the quarter-deck. As soon as 
left to themselves, the blacks broke out afresh, though in a way 
so guarded, as to confine their mirth to the galley. 

“ Cap’in Spike t’ink dat a ghost!” exclaimed Simon, with 
contempt. 

“ Guess if he see raal ghost, he find’e difference,” answered 
Josh. “ One look at raal sperit wort’ two at dis object.” 

Simon’s eyes now opened like two saucers, and they gleamed, 
by the light of the lamp they had, like dark balls of condensed 
curiosity, blended with awe, on his companion. 

“You ebber see him. Josh?” he asked, glancing over each 
shoulder hurriedly, as it might be, to make sure that he could 
not see “ him” too. 


JACK TIER. 


419 


“ How you t’ink I get so far down the wale of life, Simon, 
and nebber see sich a t’ing ? I seed t’ree of the crew of the 
‘Maria Sheffington,’ that was drowned by deir boat’s cap¬ 
sizin’, when we lay at Gibraltar, jest as plain as I see you now. 
Then—” 

But it is unnecessary to repeat Josh’s experiences in this 
way, with which he continued to entertain and terrify Simon 
for the next half-hour. This is just the difference between 
ignorance and knowledge. While Spike himself, and every 
man in his brig who belonged forward, had strong misgivings 
as to the earthly character of the figure they had seen at the 
foot of the lighthouse, these negroes laughed at their delusion, 
because they happened to be in the secret of Mulford’s escape 
from the rock, and of that of his actual presence at the Tortu- 
gas. When, however, the same superstitious feeling was 
brought to bear on circumstances that lay without the sphere 
of their exact information, they became just as dependent and 
helpless as all around them; more so, indeed, inasmuch as 
their previous habits and opinions disposed them to a more 
profound credulity. 

It was midnight before any of the crew of the Swash sought 
their rest that night. The captain had to remind them that a 
day of extraordinary toil was before them, ere he could get 
one even to quit the deck; and when they did go below, it 
was to continue to discuss the subject of what they had seen 
at the Dry Tortugas. It appeared to be the prevalent opinion 
among the people, that the late event foreboded evil to the 
Swash, and long as most of these men had served in the brig, 
and much as they had become attached to her, had she gone 
into port that night, nearly every man forward would have run 
before morning. But fatigue and wonder, at length, produced 
their effect, and the vessel was silent as was usual at that hour. 
Spike himself lay down in his clothes, as he had done ever 
since Mulford had left him *, and the brig continued to toss the 
spray from her bows, as she bore gallantly up against the 


420 


JACK TIER. 


trades, working her way to windward. The light was found 
to be of great service, as it indicated the position of the reef, 
though it gradually sunk in the western horizon, until, near 
morning, it fell entirely below it. 

At this hour Spike appeared on deck again, where, for the 
first time since their interview on the morning of Harry’s and 
Rose’s escape, he laid his eyes on Jack Tier. The little 
dumpling-looking fellow was standing in the waist, with his 
arms folded sailor-fashion, as composedly as if nothing had 
occurred to render his meeting with the captain any way of a 
doubtful character. Spike approached near the person of the 
steward, whom he surveyed from head to foot, with a sort of 
contemptuous superiority, ere he spoke. 

“So, Master Tier,” at length the captain commenced, “you 
have deigned to turn out at last, have you ? I hope the day’s 
duty you’ve forgotten, will help to pay for the lighthouse boat, 
that I understand you’ve lost for me, also.” 

“ What signifies a great clumsy boat that the brig couldn’t 
hoist in nor tow,” answered Jack, coolly, turning short round 
at the same time, but not condescending to “ uncoil” his arms 
as he did so, a mark of indifference that would probably have 
helped to mistify the captain, had he even actually suspected 
that any thing was wrong beyond the supposed accident to 
the boat in question. “ If you had had the boat astarn. Cap¬ 
tain Spike, an order would have been given to cut it adrift the 
first time the brig made sail on the wind.” 

“Nobody knows. Jack; that boat would have been very 
useful to us while at work about the wreck. You never even 
turned out this morning to let me know where that craft lay, 
as you promised to do, but left us to find it out by our wits.” 

“ There was no occasion for my telling you any thing about 
it, sir, when the mast-heads was to be seen above water. As 
soon as I heard that them ’ere mast-heads was out of water, I 
turned over and went to sleep upon it. A man can’t be on 
the doctor’s list and on duty at the same time.” 


JACK TIER. 


421 


Spike looked hard at the little steward, but he made no 
further allusion to his being off duty, or to his failing to stand 
pilot to the brig as she came through the passage in quest of 
the schooner’s remains. The fact was, that he had discovered 
the mastheads himself, just as he was on the point of ordering 
Jack to be called, having allowed him to remain in his berth 
to the last moment after his watch, according to a species of 
implied faith that is seldom disregarded among seamen. Once 
busied on the wreck. Jack was forgotten, having little to do in 
common with any one on board, but that which the captain 
termed the “ women’s mess.” 

“Come aft. Jack,” resumed Spike, after a considerable 
pause, during the whole of which he had stood regarding the 
little steward as if studying his person, and through that his 
character. “Come aft to the trunk; I wish to catechise you 
a bit.” 

“ Catechise!” repeated Tier, in an under-tone, as he follow¬ 
ed the captain to the place mentioned. “ It’s a long time since 
I’ve done any thing at thatP' 

“ Ay, come hither,” resumed Spike, seating himself at his 
ease on the trunk, while Jack stood near by, his arms still 
folded, and his rotund little form as immovable under the 
plunges that the lively brig made into the head-seas that she 
was obliged to meet, as if a timber-head in the vessel itself. 
“You keep your sea-legs well. Jack, short as they are.” 

“ No wonder for that. Captain Spike; for the last twenty 
years I’ve scarce passed a twelvemonth ashore; and what I 
did before that, no one can better tell than yourself, since *we 
was ten good years shipmates.” 

“So you say. Jack, though I do not remember you as well 
as you seem to remember me. Do you not make the time too 
long?” 

“ Not a day, sir. Ten good and happy years did we sail to¬ 
gether, Captain Spike; and all that time in this very—” 

“Hush—h-u-s-h, man, hush! There is no need of telling 


422 


JACK TIER. 


the Molly’s age to everybody. I may wish to sell her some 
day, and then her great experience will be no recommenda¬ 
tion. You should recollect that the Molly is a female, and the 
ladies do not like to hear of their ages after five-and-twenty.” 

Jack made no answer, but he dropped his arms to their nat¬ 
ural position, seeming to wait the captain’s communication, 
first referring to his tobacco-box and taking a fresh quid. 

“If you was with me in the brig. Jack, at the time you 
mention,” continued Spike, after another long and thoughtful 
pause, “ you must remember many little things that I don’t 
wish to have known; especially while Mrs. Budd and her 
handsome niece is aboard here.” 

“ I understand you. Captain Spike. The ladies shall I’arn 
no more from me than they know already.” 

“ Thank’e for that. Jack—thank’e with all my heart. Ship¬ 
mates of our standing ought to be fast friends; and so you’ll 
find me, if you’ll only sail under the true colors, my man.” 

At that moment Jack longed to let the captain know how 
strenuously he had insisted that very night on rejoining his 
vessel; and this at a time, too, when the brig was falling into 
disrepute. But this he could not do, without betraying the 
secret of the lovers—so he chose to say nothing. 

“ There is no use in blabbing all a man knows, and the gal¬ 
ley is a sad place for talking. Galley news is poor news, I 
suppose you know. Jack.” 

“ I’ve hear’n say as much on board o’ man-of-war. It’s a 
a great place for the officers to meet and talk, and smoke, in 
Uncle Sam’s crafts; and what a body hears in such places, is 
pretty much newspaper stuff, I do suppose.” 

“ Ay, ay, that’s it; not to be thought of half an hour after 
it has been spoken. Here’s a doubloon for you. Jack; and all 
for the sake of old times. Now, tell mej my little fellow, how 
do the ladies come on? Doesn’t Miss Rose get over her 
mourning on account of the mate ? Aren’t we to have the 
pleasure of seein’ her on deck soon ?” 


JACK TIER. 


423 


“ I can’t answer for the minds and fancies of young women, 
Captain Spike. They are difficult to understand; and I would 
rather not meddle with what I can’t understand.” 

“ Poh, poh, man; you must get over that. You might be 
of great use to me, Jack, in a very delicate affair—for you know 
how it is with women; they must be handled as a man would 
handle this brig among breakers; Rose, in partic’lar, is as 
skittish as a colt.” 

“ Stephen Spike,” said Jack, solemnly, but on so low a key 
that it entirely changed his usually harsh and cracked voice to 
one that sounded soft, if not absolutely pleasant, “ do you never 
think of hereafter ? Your days are almost run; a very few 
years, in your calling it may be a very few weeks, or a few 
hours, and time will be done with you, and etarnity will com¬ 
mence.—Do you never think of a hereafter ?” 

Spike started to his feet, gazing at Jack intently; then he 
wiped the perspiration from his face, and began to pace the 
deck rapidly, muttering to himself-^“ this has been a most ac¬ 
cursed night! First the mate, and now this ! Blast me, but 
I thought it was a voice from the grave! Graves ! can’t they 
keep those that belong to them, or have rocks and waves no 
graves ?” 

What more passed through the mind of the captain must 
remain a secret, for he kept it to himself; nor did he take any 
further notice of his companion. Jack, finding that he was un¬ 
observed, passed quietly below, and took the place in his berth, 
which he had only temporarily abandoned. 

Just as the day dawned, the Swash reached the vicinity of 
the wreck again. Sail was shortened, and the brig stood in 
until near enough for the purpose of her commander, when she 
was hove-to, so near the mast-heads that, by lowering the yawl, 
a line was sent out to the foremast, and the brig was hauled 
close alongside. The direction of the reef at that point formed 
a lee; and the vessel lay in water sufficiently smooth for her 
object. 


424 


JACK TIER. 


This was done soon after the sun had risen, and Spike now 
ordered all hands called, and began his operations in earnest. 
By sounding carefully around the schooner when last here, he 
had ascertained her situation to his entire satisfaction. She 
had settled on a shelf of the reef, in such a position that her 
bows lay in a sort of cradle, while her stern was several feet 
nearer to the surface than the opposite extremity. This last 
fact was apparent, indeed, by the masts themselves, the lower 
mast aft being several feet out of water, while the foremast was 
entirely buried, leaving nothing but the foretopmast exposed. 
On these great premises Spike had laid the foundation of the 
practical problem he intended to solve. 

No expectation existed of ever getting the schooner afloat 
again. All that Spike and the Senor Montefalderon now aimed 
at, was to obtain the doubloons, which the former thought 
could be got at in the following manner. He knew that it 
would be much easier handling the wreck, so far as its gravity 
was concerned, while the hull continued submerged. He also 
knew that one end could be raised with a comparatively trifling 
efi'ort, so long as the other rested on the rock. Under these 
circumstances, therefore, he proposed merely to get slings 
around the after body of the schooner, as near her stern-post, 
indeed, as would be safe, and to raise that extremity of the 
vessel to the surface, leaving most of the weight of the craft to 
rest on the bows. The difference between the power neces¬ 
sary to effect this much, and that which would be required to 
raise the whole wreck, would be like the difference in power 
necessary to turn over a log with one end resting on the 
ground, and turning the same log by lifting it bodily in the 
arms, and turning it in the air. With the stern once above 
water, it would be easy to come at the bag of doubloons, which 
Jack Tier had placed in a locker above the transoms. 

The first thing was to secure the brig properly, in order that 
she might bear the necessary strain. This was done very much 
as has been described already, in the account of the manner in 


JACK TIER. 


425 


which she was secured and supported in order to raise the 
schooner at the Dry Tortugas. An anchor was laid abreast 
and to windward, and purchases were brought to the masts, as 
before. Then the bight of the chain brought from the Tortu- 
gas was brought under the schooner’s keel, and counter-pur¬ 
chases, leading from both the foremast and mainmast of the 
brig, were brought to it, and set taut. Spike now carefully 
examined all his fastenings, looking to his cables as well as his 
mechanical power aloft, heaving in upon this, and veering out 
upon that, in order to bring the Molly square to her work; 
after which he ordered the people to knock-off for their din¬ 
ners. By that time it was high noon. 

While Stephen Spike was thus employed on the wreck, 
matters and things were not neglected at the Tortugas. The 
Poughkeepsie had no sooner anchored, than Wallace went on 
board and made his report. Captain Mull then sent for Mul- 
ford, with whom he had a long personal conference. This 
officer was getting gray, and consequently he had acquired 
experience. It was evident to Harry, at first, that he was 
regarded as one who had been willingly engaged in an unlawful 
pursuit, but who had abandoned it to push dearer interests in 
another quarter. It was some time before the commander of 
the sloop-of-war could divest himself of this opinion, though it 
gradually gave way before the frankness of the mate’s manner, 
and the manliness, simplicity, and justice of his sentiments. 
Perhaps Rose had some influence also in bringing about this 
favorable change. 

W^allace did not fail to let it be known that turtle-soup was 
to be had ashore; and many was the guest our heroine had to 
supply with that agreeable compound, in the course of the 
morning. Jack Tier had manifested so much skill in the 
preparation of the dish, that its reputation soon extended to 
the cabin, and the captain was induced to land, in order to 
ascertain how far rumor was or was not a liar, on this interest¬ 
ing occasion. So ample was the custom, indeed, that Wallace 


426 


JACK TIER. 


had the consideration to send one of the ward-room servants 
to the lighthouse, in order to relieve Rose from a duty that 
was getting to be a little irksome. She was “ seeing company” 
as a bride, in a novel and rather unpleasant manner; and it 
was in consequence of a suggestion of the “ ship’s gentleman,” 
that the remains of the turtle were transferred to the vessel, 
and were put into the coppers, secundum artem^ by the regular 
cooks. 

It was after tickling his palate with a bowl of the soup, and 
enjoying a half hour’s conversation with Rose, that Captain 
Mull summoned Harry to a final consultation on the subject 
of their future proceedings. By this time the commander of 
the Poughkeepsie was in a better humor with his new ac¬ 
quaintance, more disposed to believe him, and infinitely more 
inclined to listen to his suggestions and advice, than he had 
been in their previous interviews. Wallace -was present in his 
character of “ ship’s gentleman,” or, as having nothing to do, 
while his senior, the first lieutenant, was working like a horse 
on board the vessel, in the execution of his round of daily 
duties. 

At this consultation, the parties came into a right under¬ 
standing of each other’s views and characters. Captain Mull 
was slow to yield his confidence, but when he did bestow it, 
he bestowed it sailor-fashion, or with all his heart. Satisfied 
at last that he had to do with a young man of honor, and one 
who was true to the flag, he consulted freely with our mate, 
asked his advice, and was greatly influenced in the formation 
of his final decision by the opinions that Harry modestly ad¬ 
vanced, maintaining them, liowever, with solid arguments, and 
reasons that every seaman could comprehend. 

Mulford knew the plans of Spike by means of his own com¬ 
munications with the Senor Montefalderon. Once acquainted 
with the projects of his old commander, it was easy for him to 
calculate the time it would require to put them in execution, 
with the means that were to be found on board the Swash. 


JACK TIER. 


42Y 


“ It will take the brig until near morning,” he said, “ to beat 
up to the place where the wreck lies. Spike will wait for light 
to commence operations, and several hours will be necessary to 
moor the brig, and get out the anchors with which he will 
think it necessary to stay his masts. Then he will hook on, 
and he may partly raise the hull before night returns. More 
than this he can never do; and it would not surprise me were 
he merely to get every thing ready for heaving on his pur¬ 
chases to-morrow, and suspend further proceedings until the 
next day, in preference to having so heavy a strain on his spars 
all night. He has not the force, however, to carry on such 
duty to a very late hour; and you may count with perfect 
security. Captain Mull, on his being found alongside of the 
wreck at sunrise the next day after to-morrow, in all probability 
with his anchors down, and fast to the wreck. By timing your 
own arrival well, nothing will be easier than to get him fairly 
under your guns: and once under your guns, the brig must 
give up. When you chased her out of this very port, a few 
days since, you would have brought her up could you have 
kept her within range of those terrible shells ten minutes 
longer.” 

“ You would then advise my not sailing from this place im¬ 
mediately ?” said Mull. 

“ It will be quite time enough to get under way late in the 
afternoon, and then under short canvas. Ten hours will be 
ample time for this ship to beat up to that passage in, and it 
will be imprudent to arrive too soon; nor do I suppose you 
will wish to be playing round the reef in the dark. ” 

To the justice of all this Captain Mull assented; and the 
plan of proceedings was deliberately and intelligently formed. 
As it was necessary for Mulford to go in the ship, in order to 
act as pilot, no one else on board knowing exactly where to 
find the wreck, the commander of the Poughkeepsie had the 
civility to offer the young couple the hospitalities of his own 
cabin, with one of his staterooms. This offer Harry gratefully 


428 


JACK TIER. 


accepted, it being understood that the ship would land them at 
Key West, as soon as the contemplated duty was executed. 
Rose felt so much anxiety about her aunt, that any other ar¬ 
rangement would scarcely have pacified her fears. 

In consequence of these arrangements, the Poughkeepsie 
lay quietly at her anchors until near sunset. In the interval, 
her boats were out in all directions, parties of the officers visit¬ 
ing the islet where the powder had exploded, and the islet 
where the tent erected for the use of the females was still stand¬ 
ing. As for the lighthouse island, an order of Captain Mull’s 
prevented it from being crowded in a manner unpleasant to 
Rose, as might otherwise have been the case. The few officers 
who did land there, however, appeared much struck with the 
ingenuous simplicity and beauty of the bride, and a manly in¬ 
terest in her welfare was created among them all, principally 
by means of the representations of the second lieutenant and 
the chaplain. About five o’clock she went off to the ship, ac¬ 
companied by Harry, and was hoisted on board in the manner 
usually practised by vessels of war which have no accommo¬ 
dation-ladder rigged. Rose was immediately installed in her 
stateroom, where she found every convenience necessary to a 
comfortable though small apartment. 

It was quite late in the afternoon, when the boatswain and 
his mate piped “All hands up anchor, ahoy!” Harry hastened 
into the stateroom for his charming bride, anxious to show her 
the movements of a vessel of war on such an occasion. Much 
as she had seen of the ocean, and of a vessel, within the last 
few weeks. Rose now found that she had yet a great deal to 
learn, and that a ship of war had many points to distinguish 
her from a vessel engaged in commerce. 

The Poughkeepsie was only a sloop-of-war, or a corvette, in 
construction, number of her guns, and rate ; but she was a ship 
of the dimensions of an old-fashioned frigate, measuring about 
one thousand tons. The frigates of which we read half a cen¬ 
tury since, were seldom ever as large as this, though they were 


JACK TIER. 


429 


differently built, in having a regular gun-deck, or one armed 
deck that was entirely covered, with another above it; and on 
the quarter-deck and forecastle of the last of which were also 
batteries of lighter guns. To the contrary of all this, the 
Poughkeepsie had but one armed deck, and on that only twenty 
guns. These pieces, however, were of unusually heavy calibre, 
throwing thirty-two pound shot, with the exception of the Paix- 
hans, or Columbiads, which throw shot of even twice that weight. 
The vessel had a crew of two hundred souls, all told; and she 
had the spars, anchors, and other equipments of a light frigate. 

In another great particular did the Poughkeepsie differ from 
the corvette-built vessels that were so much in favor at the 
beginning of the century ; a species of craft obtained from the 
French, who have taught the world so much in connection 
with naval science, and who, after building some of the best 
vessels that ever floated, have failed in knowing how to handle 
them, though not always in that. The Poughkeepsie, while 
she had no spar, or upper deck, properly speaking, had a poop 
and a topgallant-forecastle. Within the last were the cabins 
and other accommodations of the captain; an arrangement 
that was necessary for a craft of her construction, that carried 
so many oflicers, and so large a crew. Without it, suflicient 
space would not be had for the uses of the last. One gun of a 
side was in the main cabin, there being a very neat and amply 
spacious after-cabin between the staterooms, as is ordinarily 
the case in all vessels from the size of frigates up to that of 
three-deckers. It may be well to explain here, while on this 
subject of construction, that in naval parlance, a ship is called 
a single-decked vessel, a <t4;o-decker, or a ^Aree-decker, not 
from the number of decks she actually possesses, but from the 
number of ^w?^-decks that she has, or of those that are fully 
armed. Thus a frigate has four decks—the spar, gun, berth, 
and orlop (or haul-up) decks; but she is called a “ single-decked 
ship,” from the circumstance that only one of these four decks 
has a complete range of batteries. The two-decker has two 


430 


JACK TIER. 


of these fully armed decks, and the three-deckers three; though, 
in fact, the two-decker has five, and the three-decker six decks. 
Asking pardon for this little digression, which we trust will 
be found useful to a portion of our readers, we return to the 
narrative. 

Harry conducted Rose to the poop of the Poughkeepsie, 
where she might enjoy the best view of the operation of get¬ 
ting so large a craft under way, man-of-war fashion. The de¬ 
tails were mysteries, of course, and Rose knew no more of the 
process by which the chain was brought to the capstan, by the 
intervention of what is called a messenger, than if she had not 
been present. She saw two hundred men distributed about the 
vessel, some at the capstan, some on the forecastle, some in the 
tops, and others in the waist, and she heard the order to “heave 
round.” Then the shrill fife commenced the lively air of “ The 
girl I left behind me,” rather more from a habit in the fifer, 
than from any great regrets for the girls left at the Dry Tortu- 
gas, as was betrayed to Mulford by the smiles of the officers, 
and the glances they cast at Rose. As for the latter, she knew 
nothing of the air, and was quite unconscious of the sort of 
parody that the gentlemen of the quarter-deck fancied it con¬ 
veyed on her own situation. 

Rose was principally struck with the quiet that prevailed in 
the ship. Captain Mull being a silent man himself, and insisting 
on having a quiet vessel. The first lieutenant was not a noisy 
officer, and from these two, everybody else on board received 
their cues. A simple “ all ready, sir,” uttered by the first to 
the captain, in a common tone of voice, answered by a “ very 
well, sir, get your anchor,” in the same tone, set every thing in 
motion. “ Stamp and go,” soon followed, and, taking the whole 
scene together. Rose felt a strange excitement come over her. 
There were the shrill, animating music of the fife; the stamp¬ 
ing time of the men at the bars; the perceptible motion of the 
ship, as she drew ahead to her anchor, and now and then the 
call between Wallace, who stood between the knightheads, as 


JACK TIER. 


431 


commander-in-chief on the forecastle (the second lieutenant’s 
station when the captain does not take the trumpet, as very 
rarely happens), and the “ executive officer” aft “ carrying on 
duty,” all conspiring to produce this effect. At length—and 
it was but a minute or two from the time when the “ stamp and 
go” commenced—Wallace called out, “A short stay-peak, sir.” 
“ Heave and pull” followed, and the men left their bars. 

The process of making sail succeeded. There was no “ let¬ 
ting fall” a fore-topsail here, as on board a merchantman, but all 
the canvas dropped from the yards, into festoons, at the same 
instant. Then the three topsails were sheeted home and 
hoisted, all at once, and all in a single minute of time; the 
yards were counterbraced, and the capstan-bars were again 
manned. In two more minutes it was “ heave and she’s up 
and down.” Then “ heave and in sight,” and “ heave and pull 
again.” The cat-fall was ready, and it was “ hook on,” when 
the fife seemed to turn its attention to another subject as the 
men catted the anchor. Literally, all this was done in less 
time than we have taken to write it down in, and in very little 
more time than the reader has wasted in perusing what we have 
here written. 

The Poughkeepsie was now “ free of bottom,” as it is called, 
with her anchor catted and fished, and her position maintained 
in the basin where she lay, by the counterbracing of her yards, 
and the counteracting force of the wind on her sails. It only 
remained to “ fill away,” by bracing her head-yards sharp up, 
when the vast mass overcame its inertia, and began to move 
through the water. All this was done, the jib and spanker 
were set. The two most beautiful things with which we are 
acquainted, are a graceful and high-bred woman entering or 
quitting a drawing-room, more particularly the last, and a man- 
of-war leaving her anchorage in a moderate breeze, and when 
not hurried for time. On the present occasion. Captain Mull 
was in no haste, and the ship passed out to windward of the 
light, as the Swash had done the previous night, under her 


432 


JACK TIER. 


three topsails, spanker, and jib, with the light sails loose .and 
flowing, and the courses hanging in the brails. 

A great deal is said concerning the defective constniction of 
the light cruisers of the navy, of late years, and complaints are 
made that they will not sail, as American cruisers ought to 
sail, and were wont to sail in old times. That there has been 
some ground for these complaints, we believe; though the evil 
has been greatly exaggerated, and some explanation may be 
given, we think, even in cases in which the strictures are not 
altogether without justification. The trim of a light, sharp ves¬ 
sel is easily deranged; and officers, in their desire to command 
as much as possible, often get their vessels of this class too 
deep. They are, generally, for the sort of cruiser, over-sparred, 
over-manned, and over-provisioned; consequently, too deep. 
We recollect a case in which one of these delicate craft, a half- 
rigged brig, was much abused for “having lost her sailing.” 
She did, indeed, lose her fore-yard, and, after that, she sailed 
like a witch, until she got a new one! If the facts were in¬ 
quired into, in the spirit which ought to govern such inquiries, 
it would be found that even most of* the much-abused “ ten 
sloops” proved to be better vessels than common. The St. 
Louis, the Vincennes, the Concord, the Fairfield, the Boston, 
and the Falmouth, are instances of what we mean. In behalf 
of the Warren, and the Lexington, we believe no discreet man 
.was ever heard to utter one syllable, except as wholesome 
crafts. But the Poughkeepsie was a very different sort of ves¬ 
sel from any of the “ ten sloops.” She was every way a good 
ship, and, as Jack expressed it, was “ a good goer.” The most 
severe nautical critic could scarcely have found a fault in her, 
as she passed out between the islets, on the evening of the day 
mentioned, in the sort of undress we have described. The 
whole scene, indeed, was impressive, and of singular maritime 
characteristics. 

The little islets scattered about—low, sandy, and untenanted 
—were the only land in sight; all else was the boundless waste 


JACK TIER. 


433 


of waters. The solitary light rose like an aquatic monument, 
as if purposely to give its character to the view. Captain Mull 
had caused its lamps to be trimmed and lighted, for the very 
reason that had induced Spike to do the same thing, and the 
dim star they presented was just struggling into existence, as it 
might be, as the brilliance left by the setting sun was gradually 
diminished, and finally disappeared. As for the ship, the hull 
appeared dark, glossy, and graceful, as is usual with a vessel of 
war. Her sails were in soft contrast to the color of the hull, 
and they offered the variety and divergence from straight lines 
which are thought necessary to perfect beauty. Those that 
were set, presented the symmetry in their trim, the flatness in 
their hoist, and the breadth that distinguish a man-of-war; 
while those that were loose, floated in the air in every wave 
and cloud-like swell, that we so often see in light canvas that is 
released from the yards in a fresh breeze. The ship had an 
undress look from this circumstance, but it was such an undress 
as denotes the man or woman of the world. This undress ap¬ 
pearance was increased by the piping down of the hammocks, 
which left the nettings loose, and with a negligent but still 
knowing look about them. 

When half a mile from the islets, the main-yard was braced 
aback, and the maintopsail was laid to the mast. As soon as 
the ship had lost her way, two or three boats, that had been 
towing astern, each with its boat-sitter, or keeper, in it, were 
hauled up alongside, or to the quarters, were “ hooked on,” and 
“ run up” to the whistling of the call. All was done at once, 
and all was done in a couple of minutes. As soon as effected, 
the maintopsail was again filled, and away the ship glided. 

Captain Mull was not in the habit of holding many consulta¬ 
tions with his ofiicers. If there be wisdom in a “ multitude of 
counsellors,” he was of opinion it was not on board a man-of- 
war. Napoleon is reported to have said that one bad general 
was better than two good ones; meaning that one head to an 
army, though of inferior quality, is better than a hydra of Solo- 

19 


434 


JACK TIER. 


mons or Caesars. Captain Mull was much of the same way of 
thinking, seldom troubling his subordinates with any thing but 
orders. He interfered very little with “ working Willy,” though 
he saw, effectually, that he did his duty. “ The ship’s gentle¬ 
man” might enjoy his joke as much as he pleased, so long as 
he chose his time and place with discretion; but in the cap¬ 
tain’s presence joking was not tolerated, unless it were after 
dinner, at his own table, and in his own cabin. Even there it 
was not precisely such joking as took place daily, not to say 
hourly, in the midshipmen’s messes. 

In making up his mind as to the mode of proceeding on the 
present occasion, therefore. Captain Mull, while he had heard 
all that Mulford had to tell him, and had even encouraged 
Wallace to give his opinions, made up his decision for himself. 
After learning all that Harry had to communicate, he made his 
own calculations as to time and distance, and quietly deter¬ 
mined to carry whole sail on the ship for the next four hours. 
This he did as the wsest course of making sure of getting to 
windward while he could, and knowing that the vessel could be 
brought under short canvas at any moment when it might be 
deemed necessary. The light was a beacon to let him know 
his distance, with almost mathematical precision. It could be 
seen so many miles at sea, each mile being estimated by so 
many feet of elevation, and having taken that elevation, he was 
sure of his distance from the glittering object, so long as it 
could be seen from his own poop. It was also of use. by let¬ 
ting him know the range of the reef, though Captain Mull, un¬ 
like Spike, had determined to make one leg off to the north¬ 
ward and eastward until he had brought the light nearly to the 
horizon, and then to make another to the southward and east¬ 
ward, believing that the last stretch would bring him to the 
leef, almost as far to windward as he desired to be. In fur¬ 
therance of this plan, the sheets of the different sails were drawn 
home, as soon as the boats were in, and the Poughkeepsie, 
bending a little to the breeze, gallantly dashed the waves aside. 


JACK TIER. 


435 


as she went through and over them, at a rate of not less than 
ten good knots in the hour. As soon as all these arrange¬ 
ments were made, the watch went below, and from that time 
throughout the night, the ship offered nothing but the quiet 
manner in which ordinary duty is carried on in a well-regulated 
vessel of war at sea, between the hours of sun and sun. Leav¬ 
ing the good craft to pursue her way with speed and certainty, 
we must now return to the Swash. 

Captain Spike had found the mooring of his brig a much 
more difficult task, on this occasion, than on that of his former 
attempt to raise the schooner. Then he had to lift the wreck 
bodily, and he knew that laying the Swash a few feet farther 
ahead or astern, could be of no great moment, inasmuch as the 
moment the schooner was off the bottom, she would swing in 
perpendicularly to the purchases. But now one end of the 
schooner, her bows, was to remain fast, and it became of im¬ 
portance to be certain that the purchases were so placed as to 
bring the least strain on the masts while they acted most di¬ 
rectly on the after body of the vessel to be lifted. This point 
gave Spike more trouble than he had anticipated. Fully one 
half of the remainder of the day, even after he had begun to 
heave up his purchases, was spent in rectifying mistakes in con¬ 
nection with this matter, and in getting up additional securities 
to his masts. 

In one respect Spike had, from the first, made a good dispo¬ 
sition. The masts of the brig raked materially, and by bring¬ 
ing the head of the Swash in the direction of the schooner, he 
converted this fact, which might otherwise have been of great 
disadvantage, into a circumstance that was favorable. In con¬ 
sequence of the brig’s having been thus moored, the strain, 
which necessarily led forward, came nearly in a line with the 
masts, and the latter were much better able to support it. Not¬ 
withstanding this advantage, however, it was found expedient 
to get up preventer-stays, and to give the spars all the addi¬ 
tional support that could be conveniently bestowed. Hours 


436 


JACK TIER. 


were passed in making these preliminary, or it might be better 
to say, secondary arrangements. 

It was past five in the afternoon when the people of the 
Swash began to heave on their purchases as finally disposed. 
After much creaking, and the settling of straps and lashings 
into their places, it was found that every thing stood, and the 
work went on. In ten minutes Spike found he had the weight 
of the schooner, so far as he should be obliged to sustain it at 
all, until the stern rose above the surface; and he felt reason¬ 
ably secure of the doubloons. Further than this he did not in¬ 
tend to make any experiment on her, the Senor Montefalderon 
having abandoned all idea of recovering the vessel itself, now 
so much of the cargo was lost. The powder was mostly con¬ 
sumed, and that which remained in the hull must, by this time, 
be injured by dampness, if not ruined. So reasoned Don Juan 
at least. 

As the utmost care was necessary, the capstan and windlass 
were made to do their several duties with great caution. As 
inch by inch was gained, the extra supports of the masts were 
examined, and it was found that a much heavier strain now 
came on the masts than when the schooner was raised before. 
This was altogether owing to the direction in which it came, 
and to the fact that the anchor planted off abeam was not of as 
much use as on the former occasion, in consequence of its not 
lying so much in a straight line with the direction of the pur¬ 
chases. Spike began to have misgivings on account of his 
masts, and this so much the more because the wind appeared 
to haul a little farther to the northward, and the weather to 
look unsettled. Should a swell roll into the bight of the reef 
where the brig lay, by raising the hull a little too rudely, there 
would be the imminent danger of at least springing, if not of 
absolutely carrying away both the principal spars. It was, 
therefore, necessary to resort to extraordinary precautions, in 
order to obviate this danger. 

The captain was indebted to his boatswain, who was now in 


JACK TIER. 


437 


fact acting as his mate, for the suggestion of the plan next 
adopted. Two of the largest spare spars of the brig were got 
out, with their heads securely lashed to the links of the chain 
by which the wreck was suspended, one on each side of the 
schooner. Pig-iron and shot were lashed to the heels of these 
spars, which carried them to the bottom. As the spars were 
of greater length than was necessary to reach the rock, they 
necessarily lay at an inclination, which was lessened every inch 
the after body of the wreck was raised, thus forming props to 
the hull of the schooner. 

Spike was delighted with the success of this scheme, of 
which he was assured by a single experiment in heaving. 
After getting the spars well planted at their heels, he even or¬ 
dered the men to slacken the purchases a little, and found that 
he could actually relieve the brig from the strain, by causing 
the wreck to be supported altogether by these shores. This 
was a vast relief from the cares of the approaching night, and 
indeed alone prevented the necessity of the work’s going on 
without interruption, or rest, until the end was obtained. 

The people of the Swash were just assured of the comforta¬ 
ble fact related, as the Poughkeepsie was passing out from 
among the islets of the Dry Tortugas. They imagined them¬ 
selves happy in having thus made a sufficient provision against 
the most formidable of all the dangers that beset them, at the 
very moment when the best-laid plan for their destruction was 
on the point of being executed. In this respect, they resem¬ 
bled millions of others of their fellows, who hang suspended 
over the vast abyss of eternity, totally unconscious of the irre¬ 
trievable character of the fall that is so soon to occur. Spike, 
as has been just stated, was highly pleased with his own expe¬ 
dient, and he pointed it out with exultation to the Senor Mon- 
tefalderon, as soon as it was completed. 

“ A nicer fit was never made by a Lunnun leg-maker, Don 
Wan,” the captain cried, after going over the explanations con¬ 
nected with the shores : “ there she stands, at an angle of fifty. 


438 


JACK TIER. 


witli two as good limbs under lier as a body could wisli. I 
could now cast off every thing, and leave the wreck in what 
they call ‘statu quo' which, I suppose, means on its pins, like 
a statue. The tafferel is not six inches below the surface of 
the water, and half an hour of heaving will bring the starn in 
sight.” 

“Your work seems ingeniously contrived to get up one ex¬ 
tremity of the vessel, Don Esteban,” returned the Mexican; 
“ but are you quite certain that the doubloons are in her ?” 

This question Avas put because the functionary of a govern¬ 
ment in which money Avas very apt to stick in passing from 
hand to hand was naturally suspicious, and he found it difficult 
to believe that Mulford, Jack Tier, and ev^en Biddy, under all 
the circumstances, had not paid special attention to their own 
interests. 

“ The bag was placed in one of the transom-lockers before 
the schooner capsized,” returned the captain, “ as Jack Tier in¬ 
forms me; if so, it remains there still. Even the sharks Avill 
not touch gold, Don Wan.” 

“Would it not be well to call Jack, and hear his account of 
the matter once more, noAv we appear to be so near the Eldo¬ 
rado of our Avishes ?” 

Spike assented, and Jack Avas summoned to the quarter-deck. 
The little felloAV had scarce showed himself throughout the day, 
and he noAv made his appearance Avith a slow step, and reluctantly. 

“You’ve made no mistake about them ’ere doubloons, I take 
it. Master Tier ?” said Spike, in a very nautical sort of style of 
addressing an infeiior. “You know them to be in one of the 
transom-lockers ?” 

Jack mounted on the breech of one of the guns, and looked 
over the bulwarks at the dispositions that had been made about 
the Avreck. The tafferel of the schooner actually came in sight, 
Avhen a little SAvell passed over it, leaving it for an instant in the 
trough. The steAvard thus caught a glimpse again of the craft 
on board which he had seen so much hazard, and he shook his 


JACK TIER. 


439 


head and seemed to be thinking of any thing but the question 
which had just been put to him. 

“Well, about that gold?” asked Spike, impatiently. 

“ The sight of that craft has brought other thoughts than gold 
into my mind, Captain Spike,” answered Jack, gravely, “and it 
would be well for all us mariners, if we thought less of gold and 
more of the dangers we run. For hours and hours did I stand 
over etarnity, on the bottom of that schooner, Don Wan, 
holdin’ my life, as it might be, at the marcy of a few bubbles of 
air.” 

“ What has all that to do with the gold ? Have you deceived 
me about that locker, little rascal ?” 

“ No, sir. I’ve not deceived you—no. Captain Spike, no. The 
bag is in the upper transom-locker, on the starboard side. There 
I put it with my own hands, and a good lift it was; and there 
you’ll find it, if you’ll cut through the quarter-deck at the spot 
I can p’int out to you.” 

This information seemed to give a renewed energy to all the 
native cupidity of the captain, who called the men from their 
suppers, and ordered them to commence heaving anew. The 
word was passed to the crew that “ it was now for doubloons,” 
and they went to the bars and handspikes, notwithstanding the 
sun had set, cheerfully and cheering. 

All Spike’s expedients admirably answered the intended pur¬ 
poses. The stern of the schooner rose gradually, and at each 
lift the heels of the shores dropped in more perpendicularly, 
carried by the weights attached to them, and the spars stood as 
firm props to secm-e all that was gained. In a quarter of an 
hour, most of that part of the stern which was within five or 
six feet of the tafferel, rose above the water, coming fairly in 
view. 

Spike now shouted to the men to “ pall!” then he directed 
the falls to be very gradually eased off, in order to ascertain if 
the shores would still do their duty. The experiment was suc¬ 
cessful, and presently the wreck stood in its upright position. 


440 


JACK I E R . 


sustained entirely by the two spars. As the last were now 
nearly perpendicular, they were capable of bearing a very heavy 
weight, and Spike was so anxious to relieve his own brig 
from the strain she had been enduring, that he ordered the 
lashings of the blocks to be loosened, trusting to his shores to 
do their duty. Against this confidence the boatswain ventured 
a remonstrance, but the gold was too near to allow the captain 
to listen or reply. The carpenter was ordered over on the 
wreck with his tools, while Spike, the Senor Montefalderon, and 
two men to row the boat and keep it steady, went in the yawl 
to watch the progress of the work. Jack Tier was ordered to 
stand in the chains, and to point out, as nearly as possible, the 
place where the carpenter was to cut. 

When all was ready. Spike gave the word, and the chips be¬ 
gan to fly. By the use of the saw and the axe, a hole large 
enough to admit two or three men at a time, was soon made in 
the deck, and the sounding for the much coveted locker com¬ 
menced. By this time, it was quite dark; and a lantern was 
passed down from the brig, in order to enable those who searched 
for the locker to see. Spike had breasted the yawl close up to 
the hole, where it was held by the men, while the captain him¬ 
self passed the lantern and his own head into the opening to 
reconnoitre. 

“ Ay, it’s all right!” cried the voice of the captain from with¬ 
in his cell-like cavity. “ I can just see the lid of the locker 
that Jack means, and we shall soon have what we are a’ter. 
Carpenter, you may as well slip otf your clothes at once, and 
go inside; I will point out to you the place where to find the 
locker. You’re certain. Jack, it was the starboard locker?” 

“ Ay, ay, sir, the starboard locker, and no other.” 

The carpenter had soon got into the hole, as naked as when 
he was born. It was a gloomy-looking place for a man to 
descend into at that hour, the light from the lantern being no 
great matter, and half the time it was shaded by the manner in 
which Spike was compelled to hold it. 


JACK TIER. 


441 


“ Take care and get a good footing, carpenter,” said the cap¬ 
tain, in a kinder tone than common, “ before you let go with 
your hands; but I suppose you can swim, as a matter of 
course ?” 

“ No, sir, not a stroke—I never could make out in the water 
at all.” 

“Have the more care, then. Had I known as much, I 
w'ould have sent another hand down; but mind your footing. 
More to the left, man—more to the left. That is the lid of the 
locker—your hand is on it; why do you not open it ?” 

“ It is swelled by the water, sir, and will need a chisel, or 
some tool of that sort. Just call out to one of the men, sir, if 
you please, to pass me a chisel from my tool-chest. A good 
stout one wdll be best.” 

This order was given, and, during the delay it caused. Spike 
encouraged the carpenter to be cool, and above all to mind his 
footing. His own eagerness to get at the gold was so great 
that he kept his head in at the hole, completely cutting off the 
man within from all communication with the outer world. 

“ What’s the matter with you ?” demanded Spike, a little 
sternly. “You shiver, and yet the water cannot be cold in 
this latitude. No, my hand makes it just the right warmth to 
be pleasant.” 

“ It’s not the water. Captain Spike—I wish they would come 
with the chisel. Did you hear nothing, sir? I’m certain I 
did!” 

“ Hear!—what is there here to be heard, unless there may 
be some fish inside, thrashing about to get out of the vessel’s 
hold?” 

“ I am sure I heard something like a groan. Captain Spike. 
I wish you would let me come out, sir, and I’ll go for the chisel 
myself; them men will never find it.” 

“ Stay where you are, coward! are you afraid of dead men 
standing against walls ? Stay where you are. Ah! here is 
the chisel—now let us see what you can do with it.” 

19 ^ 


442 


JACK TIER. 


“ I am certain I heard another groan, Captain Spike. I can¬ 
not work, sir. I’m of no use here —do let me come out, sir, 
and send a hand down that can swim.” 

Spike uttered a terrible malediction on the miserable car¬ 
penter, one we do not care to repeat; then he cast the light of 
the lantern full in the man’s face. The quivering flesh, the 
pallid face, and the whole countenance wrought up almost to 
a frenzy of terror, astonished, as well as alarmed him. 

“What ails you, man?” said the captain in a voice of 
thunder. “ Clap in the chisel, or I’ll hurl you off into the 
water. There is nothing here, dead or alive, to harm ye !” 

“ The groan, sir—I hear it again! Bo let me come out. Cap¬ 
tain Spike.” 

Spike himself, this time, heard what even he took for a groan. 
It came from the depths of the vessel, apparently, and was suf¬ 
ficiently distinct and audible. Astonished, yet appalled, he 
thrust his shoulders into the aperture, as if to dare the demon 
that tormented him, and was met by the carpenter endeavoring 
to escape. In the struggle that ensued, the lantern was 
dropped into the water, leaving the half-frenzied combatants 
contending in the dark. The groan was renewed, when the 
truth flashed on the minds of both. 

“The shores! the shores!” exclaimed the carpenter from 
within. “ The shores!” repeated Spike, throwing himself back 
into the boat, and shouting to his men to “ see all clear of the 
wreck!” The grating of one of the shores on the coral be¬ 
neath was now heard plainer than ever, and the lower extrem¬ 
ity slipped outward, not astern, as had been apprehended, let¬ 
ting the wreck slowly settle to the bottom again. One piercing 
shriek arose from the narrow cavity within; then the gurgling 
of water into the aperture was heard, when naught of sound 
could be distinguished but the sullen and steady wash of the 
waves of the Gulf over the rocks of the reef. 

The impression made by this accident was most profound. 
A fatality appeared to attend the brig; and most of the men 


JACK TIER. 


443 


connected the sad occurrence of this night with the strange 
appearance of the previous evening. Even the Senor Monte- 
falderon was disposed to abandon the doubloons, and he urged 
Spike to make the best of his way for Yucatan, to seek a 
friendly harbor. The captain wavered; but avarice was too 
strong a passion in him to be easily diverted from its object, 
and he refused to give up his purpose. 

As the wreck was entirely free from the brig when it went 
down for the third time, no injury was sustained by the last 
on this occasion. By renewing the lashings, every thing would 
be ready to begin the work anew—and this. Spike was resolved 
to attempt in the morning. The men were too much fatigued, 
and it was too dark to think of pushing matters any farther 
that night; and it was very questionable whether they could 
have been got to work. Orders were consequently given for 
all hands to turn in, the captain, relieved by Don Juan and 
Jack Tier, having arranged to keep the watches of the night. 

“ This is a sad accident, Don Esteban,” observed the Mexi¬ 
can, as he and Spike paced the quarter-deck together, just be¬ 
fore the last turned in; “a sad accident! My miserable 
schooner seems to be deserted by its patron saint. Then your 
poor carpenter— 1” 

“ Yes, he was a good fellow enough with a saw, or an adze,” 
answered Spike, yawning. “ But we get used to such things 
at sea. It’s neither more nor less than a carpenter expended. 
Good-night, Senor Don Wan ; in the morning we’ll be at that 
gold ag’in.” 


444 


JACK TIER. 


CHAPTER XIV. 

“ She’s in a scene of nature’s war, 

The winds and waters are at strife; 

And both with her contending for 
The brittle thread of human life.” 

Miss Gould. 

Spike was sleeping hard in his berth, quite early on the fol¬ 
lowing morning, before the return of light, indeed, when he 
suddenly started up, rubbed his eyes, and sprang upon deck 
like a man alarmed. He had heard, or fancied he had heard, 
a cry, A voice, once well known and listened to, seemed to 
call him in the very portals of his ear* At first he had listened 
to its words in wonder, entranced like the bird by the snake, 
the tones recalling scenes and persons that had once possessed 
a strong control over his rude feelings. Presently the voice 
became harsher in its utterance, and it said: 

“ Stephen Spike, awake! The hour is getting late, and you 
have enemies nearer to you than you imagine. Awake, Ste¬ 
phen, awake!” 

When the captain was on his feet, and had, plunged his 
head into a basin of water that stood ready for him in the 
stateroom, he could not have told, for his life, whether he had 
been dreaming or waking, whether what he had heard was the 
result of a feverish imagination, or of.the laws of nature. The 
call haunted him all that morning, or until events of import¬ 
ance so pressed upon him as to draw his undivided attention 
to them alone. 

It was not yet day. The men were still in heavy sleep, ly¬ 
ing about the decks, for they avoided the small and crowded 


JACK TIER. 


445 


forecastle in that warm climate, and the night was, apparently, 
at its deepest hour. Spike walked forward to look for the man 
charged with the anchor-watch. It proved to be Jack Tier, 
who was standing near the galley, his arms folded as usual, 
apparently watching the few signs of approaching day that 
were beginning to be apparent in the western sky. The cap¬ 
tain was in none of the best humors with the steward’s assist¬ 
ant ; but Jack had unaccountably got an ascendency over his 
commander, which it was certainly very unusual for any sub¬ 
ordinate in the Swash to obtain. Spike had deferred more to 
Mulford than to any mate he had ever before employed; but 
this was the deference due to superior information, manners, 
and origin. It was common-place, if not vulgar; whereas, the 
ascendency obtained by little Jack Tier was, even to its subject, 
entirely inexplicable. He was unwilling to admit it to himself 
in the most secret manner, though he had begun to feel it on 
all occasions which brought them in contact, and to submit to 
it as a thing not to be averted. 

“Jack Tier,” demanded the captain, now that he found him¬ 
self once more alone with the other, desirous of obtaining his 
opinion on a point that harassed him, though he knew not 
why; “ Jack Tier, answer me one thing. Do you believe that 
we saw the form of a dead or of a living man at the foot of the 
lighthouse ?” 

“ The dead are never seen leaning against walls in that man¬ 
ner, Stephen Spike,” answered Jack, coolly, not even taking 
the trouble to uncoil his arms. “ What you saw was a living 
man ; and you would do well to be on your guard agaiust him. 
Harry Mulford is not your friend—and there is reason for it.” 

“ Harry Mulford, and living! How can that be. Jack ? You 
know the port in which he chose to mn.” 

“ I know the rock on which you chose to abandon him. Cap¬ 
tain Spike.” 

“ If so, how could he be living and at the Dry Tortugas ? 
The thing is impossible !” 


446 


JACK TIER. 


“ The thing is so. Y ou saw Harry Mulford, living and well, 
and ready to hunt you to the gallows. Beware of him, then; 
and beware of his handsome wife!” 

“ Wife ! the fellow has no wife—he has always professed to 
be a single man!” 

“ The man is married—and I bid you beware of his hand¬ 
some wife. She, too, will be a witness ag’in you.” 

“This will be news, then, for Rose Budd. I shall delight in 
telling it to her^ at least.” 

“ ’Twill be no news to Rose Budd. She was present at the 
wedding, and will not be taken by surprise. Rose loves Harry 
too well to let him marry, and she not present at the wed¬ 
ding.” 

“ Jack, you talk strangely! What is the meaning of all 
this ? I am captain of this craft, and will not be trifled with— 
tell me at once your meaning, fellow!” 

“ My meaning is simple enough, and easily told. Rose Budd 
is the wife of Harry Mulford.” 

“You’re dreaming, fellow, or are wishing to trifle with me!” 

“ It may be a dream, but it is one that will turn out to be 
true. If they have found the Poughkeepsie sloop-of-war, as I 
make no doubt they have by this time, Mulford and Rose are 
man and wife.” 

“ Fool! you know not what you say ! Rose is, at this mo¬ 
ment, in her berth, sick at heart on account of the young gen¬ 
tleman who preferred to live on the Florida Reef rather than 
to sail in the Molly!” 

“ Rose is not in her berth, sick or well; neither is she on 
board this brig at all. She went off in the lighthouse boat to 
deliver her lover from the naked rock—and well did she suc¬ 
ceed in so doing. God was of her side, Stephen Spike ; and a 
body seldom fails, with such a friend to support one.” 

Spike was astounded at these words, and not less so at the 
cool and confident manner with which they were pronounced. 
Jack spoke in a certain dogmatical, oracular manner, it is true. 


JACK TIER. 


447 


one that might have lessened his authority with a person over 
whom he had less influence; but this in no degree diminished 
its effect on Spike. On the contrary, it even disposed the 
captain to yield an implicit faith to what he heard, and all so 
much the more because the facts he was told appeared of 
themselves to be nearly impossible. It was half a minute be¬ 
fore he had sufficiently recovered from his surprise to continue 
the discourse. 

“ The lighthouse boat!” Spike then slowly repeated. “ Why, 
fellow, you told me the lighthouse boat went adrift from your 
own hands!” 

“ So it did,” answered Jack, coolly, “ since I cast off the 
painter—and what is more, went in it.” 

“ You ! This is impossible. You are telling me a fabricated 
lie. If you had gone away in that boat, how could you now 
be here ? No, no—it is a miserable lie, and Rose is below !” 

“ Go and look into her stateroom, and satisfy yourself with 
your own eyes.” 

Spike did as was suggested. He went below, took a lamp 
that was always suspended, lighted, in the main cabin, and, 
without ceremony, proceeded to Rose’s stateroom, where he 
soon found that the bird had really flown. A direful execration 
followed this discovery, one so loud as to awaken Mrs. Budd 
and Biddy. Determined not to do things by halves, he broke 
open the door of the widow’s stateroom, and ascertained that 
the person he sought was not there. A fierce explosion of oaths 
and denunciations followed, which produced an answer in the 
customary screams. In the midst of this violent scene, how¬ 
ever, questions were put, and answers obtained, that not only 
served to let the captain know that Jack had told him nothing 
but truth, but to put an end to every thing like amicable rela¬ 
tions between himself and the relict of his old commander. 
Until this explosion, appearances had been observed between 
them ; but, from that moment, there must necessarily be an end 
of all professions of even civility. Spike was never particularly 


448 


JACK TIER. 


refined in liis intercourse with females, but he now threw aside 
even its pretension. His rage was so great, that he totally for¬ 
got his manhood, and lavished on both Mrs. Budd and Biddy, 
epithets that were altogether inexcusable, and many of which 
it will not do to repeat. Weak and silly as was the widow, she 
was not without spirit; and on this occasion she was indisposed 
to submit to all this unmerited abuse in silence. Biddy, as 
usual, took her cue from her mistress; and between the two, 
their part of the wordy conflict was kept up with a very re¬ 
spectable degree of animation. 

“ I know you—I know you, now !” screamed the widow, at 
the top of her voice ; “ and you can no longer deceive me, un¬ 
worthy son of Neptune as you are! You are unfit to be a 
lubber, and would be log-booked for an or’nary by every gentle¬ 
man on board ship. You, a full-jiggered seaman ! No, you 
are not even half-jiggered, sir; and I tell you so to your face.” 

“ Yes, and it isn’t Aai/’that might be tould the likes of yees!” 
put in Biddy, as her mistress stopped to breathe. “ And it’s 
Miss Rose you’d have for a wife, when Biddy Noon would be 
too good for ye ! We knows ye, and all about ye, and can give 
yer history as complate from the day ye w^as born down to the 
prisent moment, and not find a good word to say in yer favor 
in all that time—and a precious time it is, too, for a gentleman 
that would marry pretthy, young Miss Rose! Och! I scorn 
to look at ye, yer so ugly !” 

“ And trying to persuade me you were a friend of my poor, 
dear Mr. Budd, whose shoe you are unworthy to touch, and 
who had the heart and soul for the noble profession you dis¬ 
grace,” cut in the widows, the moment Biddy gave her a chance, 
by pausing to make a wry face as she pronounced the word 
“ ugly.” “ I now believe you capasided them poor Mexicans, in 
order to get their money; and the moment we cast anchor in a 
road-side I’ll go ashore, and complain of you for murder, I will.” 

“ Do, Missus dear, and I’ll be your bail, will I, and swear to 
all that happened, and more too. Och ! yer a wretch, to wdsh 


JACK TIER. 


449 


to be the husband of Miss Rose, and she so young and pretthy, 
and you so ould and ugly !” 

“ Co.me away—come away, Stephen Spike, and do not stand 
wrangling with women, when you and your brig, and all that 
belongs to you, are in danger,” called out Jack Tier from the 
companion-way. “ Day is come; and what is much worse for 
you, your most dangerous enemy is coming with it.” 

Spike was almost livid with rage, and ready to burst out in 
awful maledictions; but at this summons he sprang to the 
ladder, and was on deck in a moment. At first, he felt a strong 
disposition to wreak his vengeance on Tier; but, fortunately 
for the latter, as the captain’s foot touched the quarter-deck, 
his eye fell on the Poughkeepsie, then within half a league of 
the Swash, standing in towards the reef, though fully half a 
mile to leeward. This spectre drove all other subjects from his 
mind, leaving the captain of the Swash in the only character in 
which he could be said to be respectable, in that of a seaman. 
Almost instinctively he called all hands; then he gave one 
brief minute to a survey of his situation. 

It was, indeed, time for the Swash to be moving. There she 
lay, with three anchors down, including that of the schooner, 
all she had, in fact, with the exception of her best bower, and 
one kedge, with the purchases aloft, in readiness for hook¬ 
ing on to the wreck, and all the extra securities up that had 
been given to the masts. As for the sloop-of-war, she was under 
the very same canvas as that with which she had come out 
from the Dry Tortugas, or her three topsails, spanker, and jib; 
but most of her other sails were loose, even to her royals and 
flying-jibs; though closely gathered into their spars by means 
of the running gear. In a word, every sailor would know, at a 
glance, that the ship was merely waiting for the proper moment 
to spread her wings, when she would be flying through the 
water at the top of her speed. The weather looked dirty, and 
the wind was gradually increasing, threatening to blow heavily 
as the day advanced. 


450 


JACK TIER. 


“ Unshackle, unshackle !” shouted Spike to the boatswain, 
who was the first man that appeared on deck. “ The bloody 
sloop-of-war is upon us, and there is not a moment to lose. 
We must get the brig clear of the ground in the shortest way 
we can, and abandon every thing. Unshackle, and cast off, 
for’ard and aft, men.” 

A few minutes of almost desperate exertion succeeded. No 
men work like sailors, when the last are in a hurry, their efforts 
being directed to counteracting squalls, and avoiding emergen¬ 
cies of the most pressing character. Thus was it now with the 
crew of the Swash. The clanking of chains lasted but a min¬ 
ute, when the parts attached to the anchors were thrust through 
the hawse-holes, or were dropped into the water from other 
parts of the brig. This at once released the vessel, though a 
great deal remained to be done to clear her for working, and 
to put her in the best trim. 

“ Away with this out-hauler!” again shouted Spike, casting 
loose the main-brails as he did so; “ loose the jibs!” 

All went on at once, and the Swash moved away from the 
grave of the poor carpenter with the ease and facility of motion 
that marked all her evolutions. Then the topsail was let fall, 
and presently all the upper squaresails were sheeted home, and 
hoisted, and the fore-tack was hauled aboard. The Molly was 
soon alive, and jumping into the seas that met her with more 
power than was common, as she drew out from under the shel¬ 
ter of the reef into rough water. From the time when Spike 
gave his first order, to that when all his canvas was spread, was 
just seven minutes. 

The Poughkeepsie, with her vastly superior crew, was not 
idle the while. Although the watch below was not disturbed, 
she tacked beautifully, and stood off the reef, in a line parallel 
to the course of the brig, and distant from her about half a 
mile. Then sail was made, her tacks having been boarded in 
stays. Spike knew the play of his craft was short legs, for she 
was so nimble in her movements that he believed she could go 


JACK TIER. 


451 


about in half the time that would be required for a vessel of the 
Poughkeepsie’s length. “ Ready about,” was his cry, therefore, 
when less than a mile distant from the reef—“ ready about, 
and let her go round.” Round the Molly did go, like a top, 
being full on the other tack in just fifty-six seconds. The 
movement of the corvette was more stately, and somewhat 
more deliberate. Still, she stayed beautifully, and both Spike 
and the boatswain s^ook their heads, as they saw her coming 
into the wind with her sails all lifting and the sheets fiowing. 

That fellow will fore-reach a cable’s length before he gets 
about!” exclaimed Spike. “ He will prove too much for us at 
this sport! Keep her away, my man—keep the brig away for 
the passage. We must run through the reef, instead of trusting 
ourselves to our heels in open water.” 

The brig was kept away accordingly, and sheets were eased 
ofi*, and braces just touched to meet the new line of sailing. 
As the wind stood, it was possible to lay through the passage 
on an easy bowline, though the breeze, which was getting to be 
fresher than Spike wished it to be, promised to haul more to 
the southward of east, as the day advanced. Nevertheless, this 
was the Swash’s best point of sailing, and all on board of her 
had strong hopes of her being too much for her pursuer, could 
she maintain it. Until this feeling began to diflfuse itself in the 
brig, not a countenance was to be seen on her decks that did 
not betray intense anxiety ; but now something like grim smiles 
passed among the crew, as their craft seemed rather to fiy than 
force her way through the water, towards the entrance of the 
passage so often adverted to in this narrative. 

On the other hand, the Poughkeepsie was admirably sailed 
and handled. Everybody was now on deck, and the first-lieu¬ 
tenant had taken the trumpet. Captain Mull was a man of 
method, and a thorough man-of-war’s man. Whatever he did 
was done according tt) rule, and with great system. Just as 
the Swash was about to enter the passage, the drum of the 
Poughkeepsie beat to quarters. No sooner were the men 


452 


JACK TIER. 


mustered, in tlie leeward, or tlie starboard batteries, than orders 
were sent to cast loose the guns, and to get them ready for ser¬ 
vice. Owing to the more leeward position of his vessel, and 
to the fact that she always head-reached so much in stays. Cap¬ 
tain Mull knew that she would not lose much by luffing into 
the wind, or by making half-boards, while he might gain every 
thing by one well-directed shot. 

The strife commenced by the sloop-of-war filing her weather 
bow-gun, single-shotted, at the Swash. No damage was done, 
though the fore-yard of the brig had a very narrow escape. 
This experiment was repeated three times, without even a 
rope-yarn being carried away, though the gun was pointed by 
Wallace himself, and well pointed, too. But it is possible for a 
shot to come very near its object and still to do no injury. 
Such was the fact on this occasion, though the “ ship’s gentle¬ 
man” was a good deal mortified by the result. Men look so 
much at success as the test of merit, that few pause to inquire 
into the reasons of failures, though it frequently happens that 
adventures prosper by means of their very blunders. Captain 
Mull now determined on a half-board, for his ship was more to 
leeward than he desired. Directions were given to the officers 
in the batteries to be deliberate, and the helm was put down. 
As the ship shot into the wind, each gun was fired, as it could 
be brought to bear, until the last of them all was discharged. 
Then the course of the vessel was changed, the helm being 
righted before the ship had lost her way, and the sloop-of-war 
fell off again to her course. 

All this was done in such a short period of time, as scarcely 
to cause the Poughkeepsie to lose any thing, while it did the 
Swash the most serious injury. The guns had been directed 
at the brig’s spars and sails. Captain Mull desiring no more 
than to capture his chase, and the destruction they produced 
aloft was- such, as to induce Spike and his men, at first, to 
imagine that the whole hamper above their heads was about to 
come clattering down on deck. One shot carried away all the 


JACK TIER. 


453 


weather foretopmast rigging of the brig, and would no doubt 
have brought about the loss of the mast, if another, that almost 
instantly succeeded it, had not cut the spar itself in two, bringing 
down, as a matter of course, every thing above it. Nearly half 
of the mainmast was gouged out of that spar, and the gaft* was 
taken fairly out of its jaws. The foreyard was cut in the slings, 
and various important ropes were carried away in different 
parts of the vessel. 

Flight, under such circumstances, was impossible, unless 
some extraordinary external assistance was to be obtained. 
This Spike saw at once, and he had recourse to the only expe¬ 
dient that remained; which might possibly yet save him. The 
guns were still belching forth their smoke and flames, when he 
shouted out the order to put the helm hard up. The width of 
the passage in which the vessels were was not so great but that 
he might hope to pass across it, and to enter a channel among 
the rocks, which was favorably placed for such a purpose, ere 
the sloop-of-war could overtake him. Whither that channel 
led, what water it possessed, or whether it were not a shallow 
cul-de-sac^ were all facts of which Spike was ignorant. The 
circumstances, however, would not admit of an alternative. 

Happily for the execution of Spike’s present design, nothing 
from aloft had fallen into the water, to impede the brig’s way. 
Forward, in particular, she seemed all wreck; her foreyard 
having come down altogether, so as to encumber the forecastle, 
while her topmast, with its dependent spars and gear, was sus¬ 
pended but a short distance above. Still, notliing had gone 
over the side, so as actually to touch the water, and the craft 
obeyed her helm as usual. Away she went, then, for the lateral 
opening in the reef just mentioned, driven ahead by the pressure 
of a strong breeze on her sails, which still offered large surfaces 
to the wind, at a rapid rate. Instead of keeping away to fol¬ 
low, the Poughkeepsie maintained her luflT, and just as the 
Swash entered the unknown passage, into which she was blindly 
plunging, the sloop-of-war was about a quarter of a mile to 


454 


JACK TIER. 


windward, and standing directly across her stern. ^Nothing 
wonld have been easier, now, than for Captain Mull to destroy 
his chase; but humanity prevented his firing. He knew that 
her career must be short, and he fully expected to see her anchor; 
when it would be easy for him to take possession with his boats. 
With this expectation, indeed, he shortened sail, furling topgal- 
lantsails, and hauling up his courses. By this time, the wind 
had so much freshened as to induce him to think of putting in 
a reef, and the step now taken had a double object in view. 

To the surprise of all on board the man-of-war, the brig con¬ 
tinued on, until she was fully a mile distant, finding her way 
deeper and deeper among the mazes of the reef without meeting 
with any impediment. This fact induced Captain Mull to order 
his Paixhans to throw their shells beyond her, by way of a hint 
to anchor. While the guns were getting ready, Spike stood on 
boldly, knowing it was neck or nothing, and beginning to feel 
a faint revival of hope, as he found himself getting further and 
further from his pursuers, and the rocks not fetching him up. 
Even the men, who had begun to murmur at what seemed to 
them to be risking too much, partook, in a slight degree, of the 
same feeling, and began to execute the order they had received, 
to try to get the launch into the water, with some appearance 
of an intention to succeed. Previously, the work could scarcely 
be said to go on at all; but two or three of the older seamen 
now bestirred themselves, and suggestions were made and at¬ 
tended to, that promised results. But it was no easy thing to 
get the launch out of a half-rigged brig, that had lost her fore¬ 
yard, and which carried nothing square abaft. A derrick was 
used in common to lift the stern of the boat; but a derrick 
w'ould now be useless aft, without an assistant forward. While 
these things were in discussion under the superintendence of the 
boatswain, and Spike was standing between the knightheads, 
conning the craft, the sloop-of-war let fly the first of her hollow 
shot. Down came the hurtling mass upon the Swash, keeping 
every head elevated and all eyes looking for the dark object, as 


JACK TIER. 


455 


it went booming through the air above their heads. The shot 
passed fully a mile to leeward, where it exploded. This great 
range had been given to the first shot, with a view to admonish 
the captain how long he must continue under the guns of the 
ship, and as advice to come to. The second gun followed im¬ 
mediately. Its shot was seen to ricochet directly in a line with 
the brig, making leaps of about half a mile in length. It struck 
the water about fifty yards astern of the vessel, bounded directly 
over her decks, passing through the mainsail and some of the 
fallen hamper forward, and exploded about a hundred yards 
ahead. As usually happens with such projectiles, most of the 
fragments were either scattered laterally, or went on, impelled 
by the original momentum. 

The effect of this last gun on the crew of the Swash was 
instantaneous and deep. The faint gleamings of hope vanished 
at once, and a lively consciousness of the desperate nature of 
their condition succeeded in every mind. The launch was for¬ 
gotten, and, after conferring together for a moment, the men 
went in a body, with the boatswain at their head, to the fore¬ 
castle, and offered a remonstrance to their commander, on the 
subject of holding out any longer, under circumstances so very 
hazardous, and which menaced their lives in so many different 
ways. Spike listened to them with eyes that fairly glared with 
fury. He ordered them back to their duty in a voice of thun¬ 
der, tapping the breast of his jacket, where he was known to 
carry revolvers, with a significance that could convey but one 
meaning. 

It is wonderful the ascendency that men sometimes obtain 
over their fellows, by means of character, the habits of command, 
and obedience, and intimidation. Spike was a stern discipli¬ 
narian, relying on that and ample pay for the unlimited control 
he often found it necessary to exercise over his crew. On the 
present occasion, his people were profoundly alarmed, but ha¬ 
bitual deference and submission to their leader counteracted the 
feeling, and held them in suspense. They were fully aware of 


456 


JACK TIER. 


the nature of the position they occupied in a legal sense, and 
were deeply reluctant to increase the appearances of crime; but 
most of them had been extricated from so many grave difficul¬ 
ties in former instances, by the coolness, nerve, and readiness 
of the captain, that a latent ray of hope was perhaps dimly 
shining in the rude breast of every old sea-dog among them. 
As a consequence of these several causes, they abandoned their 
remonstrance, for the moment at least, and made a show of re¬ 
turning to their duty—though it was in a sullen and moody 
manner. 

It was easier, however, to make a show of hoisting out the 
launch, than to effect the object. This was soon made appa¬ 
rent, on trial, and Spike himself gave the matter up. He or¬ 
dered the yawl to be lowered, got alongside, and to be prepared 
for the reception of the crew, by putting into it a smali^pro- 
vision of food and water. All this time the brig was rushing 
madly to leeward, among rocks and breakers, without any other 
guide than that which the visible dangers afforded. Spike 
knew no more where he was going than the meanest man in 
his vessel. His sole aim was to get away from his pursuers, 
and to save his neck from the rope. He magnified the danger 
of punishment that he really ran, for he best knew the extent 
and nature of his crimes, of which the few that have been laid 
before the reader, while they might have been amongst the 
most prominent, as viewed through the statutes and interna¬ 
tional law, were far from the gravest he had committed in the 
eyes of morals. 

About this time the Senor Montefalderon went forward to 
confer with Spike. The calmness of this gentleman’s de¬ 
meanor, the simplicity and coolness of his movements, denoted 
a conscience that saw no particular ground for alarm. He 
wished to escape captivity, that he might continue to serve his 
country, but no other apprehension troubled him. 

“ Do you intend to trust yourself in the yawl, Don 
Esteban?” demanded the Mexican, quietly. “If so, is she 


JACK TIER. 


457 


Dot too small to contain so many as we shall make alto¬ 
gether 

Spike’s answer was given in a low voice; and it evidently 
came from a very husky throat. 

“Speak lower, Don Wan,” he said. “The boat would be 
greatly overloaded with all hands in it, especially among the 
breakers, and blowing as it does; but we may leave some of 
the party behind.” 

“ The brig must go on the rocks, sooner or later, Don Este¬ 
ban ; when she does, she will go to pieces in an hour.” 

“ I expect to hear her strike every minute, Senor; the mo¬ 
ment she does, we must be off. I have had my eye on that 
ship for some time, expecting to see her lower her cutters and 
gigs to board us. You will not be out of the way, Don Wan; 
but there is no need of being talkative on the subject of our 
escape.” 

Spike now turned his back on the Mexican, looking anxiously 
ahead, with the desire to get as far into the reef as possible 
with his brig, which he conned with great skill and coolness. 
The Senor Montefalderon left him. With the chivalry and 
consideration of a man and a gentleman, he went in quest of 
Mrs. Budd and Biddy. A hint sufficed for them, and, gather¬ 
ing together a few necessaries, they were in the yawl in the 
next three minutes. This movement was unseen by Spike, or 
he might have prevented it. His eyes were now riveted on 
the channel ahead. It had been fully his original intention to 
make off in the boat the instant the brig struck, abandoning 
not only Don Juan, with Mrs. Budd and Biddy to their fates, 
but most of the crew. A private order had been given to the 
boatswain, and three of the ablest-bodied among the seamen, 
each and all of whom kept the secret with religious fidelity, as 
it was believed their own personal safety might be connected 
with the success of this plan. 

Nothing is so contagious as alarm. It requires not only 
great natural steadiness of nerve, but much acquired fiimness, 

20 


458 


JACK TIER. 


to remain unmoved when sudden terror has seized on the minds 
of those around us. Habitual respect had prevented the crew 
from interfering with the movements of the Mexican, who not 
only descended into the boat with his female companions un¬ 
interrupted, but also took with him the little bag of doubloons 
which fell to his share from the first raising of the schooner. 
Josh and Jack Tier assisted in getting Mrs. Budd and Biddy 
over the side, and both took their own places in the yawl as 
soon as this pious duty was discharged. This served as a hint 
to others near at hand; and man after man left his work to 
steal into the yawl, until every living being had disappeared 
from the deck of the Swash, Spike himself excepted. The man 
at the wheel had been the last to desert his post, nor would he 
have done so then, but for a signal from the boatswain, with 
whom he was a favorite. 

It is certain there was a secret desire among the people of the 
Swash, who were now crowded into a boat not large enough 
to contain more than half their number with safety, to push off 
from the brig’s side, and abandon her commander and owner 
to his fate. All had passed so soon, however, and events suc¬ 
ceeded each other with so much rapidity, that little time was 
given for consultation. Habit kept them in their places, though 
the appearances around them were strong motives for taking 
care of themselves. 

Notwithstanding the time necessary to relate the foregoing 
events, a quarter of an hour had not elapsed, from the moment 
when the Swash entered this unknown channel among the 
rocks, ere she struck. No sooner was her helm deserted than 
she broached-to, and Spike was in the act of denouncing the 
steerage, ignorant of its cause, when the brig w'as thrown, 
broadside-to, on a sharp, angular bed of rocks. It was fortu¬ 
nate for the boat, and all in it, that it was brought to leeward 
by the broaching-to of the vessel, and that the water was still 
sufficiently deep around them to prevent the waves from break¬ 
ing. Breakers there were, however, in thousands, on every 


JACK TIER. 


459 


side; and the seamen understood that their situation was al¬ 
most desperately perilous, without shipwreck coming to in¬ 
crease the danger. 

The storm itself was scarcely more noisy and boisterous than 
was Spike, when he ascertained the manner in which his peo¬ 
ple had behaved. At first, he believed it was their plan to 
abandon him to his fate; but, on rushing to the lee-gangway, 
Don Juan Montefalderon assured him that no such intention 
existed, and that he would not allow the boat to be cast off 
until the captain was received on board. This brief respite 
gave Spike a moment to care for his portion of the doubloons; 
and he rushed to his stateroom to secure them, together with 
his quadrant. 

The grinding of the brig’s bottom on the coral, announced 
a speedy breaking up of the craft, while her commander was 
thus employed. So violent were some of the shocks with 
which she came down on the hard bed in which she was now 
cradled, that Spike expected to see her burst asunder, while he 
was yet on her decks. The cracking of timbers told him that 
all was over with the Swash, nor had he got back as far as the 
gangway with his prize, before he saw plainly that the vessel 
had broken her back, as it is termed, and that her plank-sheer 
was opening in a way that threatened to permit a separation 
of the craft into two sections, one forward and the other aft. 
Notwithstanding all these portentous proofs that the minutes 
of the Molly were numbered, and the danger that existed of 
his being abandoned by his crew. Spike paused a moment, ere 
he went over the vessel’s side, to take a hasty survey of the 
reef. His object was to get a general idea of the position o 
the breakers, with a view to avoid them. As much of the in¬ 
terest of that which is to succeed is connected with these par¬ 
ticular dangers, it may be well to explain their character, along 
with a few other points of a similar bearing. 

The brig had gone ashore fully two miles within the passage 
she had entered, and which, indeed, terminated at the very 


460 


JACK TIER. 


spot where she had struck. The Poughkeepsie was standing 
off and on, in the main channel, with her boats in the water, 
evidently preparing to carry the brig in that mode. As for the 
breakers, they whitened the surface of the ocean, in all direc¬ 
tions around the wreck but two, far as the eye could reach. 
The passage in which the Poughkeepsie was standing to and 
fro was clear of them, of course; and about a mile and a half 
to the northward. Spike saw that he should be in open water, 
or altogether on the northern side of the reef, could he only 
get there. The gravest dangers would exist in the passage, 
which led among breakers on all sides, and very possibly among 
rocks so near the surface as absolutely to obstruct the way. 
In one sense, however, the breakers were useful. By avoiding 
them as much as possible, and by keeping in the unbroken 
water, the boat would be running in the channels of the reef, 
and consequently would be the safer. The result of the sur¬ 
vey, short as it was, and it did not last a minute, was to give 
Spike something like a plan; and when he went over the side, 
and got into the boat, it was with r determination to work his 
way out of the reef to its northern edge, as soon as possible, 
and then to skirt it as near as he could, in his flight towards 
the Dry Tortugas. 


JACK TIER. 


461 


CHAPTER XV. 

“ The screams of rage, the groan, the strife. 

The blow, the grasp, the horrid cry, 

The panting, throttled prayer for life. 

The dying’s heaving sigh. 

The murderer’s curse, the dead man’s fixed, still glare. 

And fear’s and death’s cold sweat—they all are there.” 

Matthew Lee. 

It was high time that Captain Spike should arrive when his 
foot touched the bottom of the yawl. The men were getting 
impatient and anxious to the last degree, and the power of 
Sehor Montefalderon to control them was lessening each in¬ 
stant. They heard the rending of timber, and the grinding on 
the coral, even more distinctly than the captain himself, and 
feared that the brig w'ould break up while they lay alongside 
of her, and crush them amid the ruins. Then the spray of the 
seas that broke over the weather side of the brig, fell like rain 
upon them ; and everybody in the boat was already as wet as 
if exposed to a violent shower. It was well, therefore, for Spike 
that he descended into the boat as he did, for another minute’s 
delay might have brought about his own destruction. 

Spike felt a chill at his heart when he looked about him and 
saw the condition of the yawl. So crowded were the stem- 
sheets into which he had descended, that it was with difficulty 
he found room to place his feet; it being his intention to steer. 
Jack was ordered to get into the eyes of the boat, in order to 
give him a seat. The thwarts were crowded, and three or four 
of the people had placed themselves in the very bottom of the 
little craft, in order to be as much as pos.sible out of the way, 
as well as in readiness to bail out water. So seriously, indeed, 


462 


JACK TIER. 


were all the seamen impressed with the gravity of this last 
duty, that nearly every man had taken with him some vessel fit 
for such a purpose. Kowing was entirely out of the question, 
there being no space for the movement of the arms. The yawl 
was too low in the water, moreover, for such an operation in so 
heavy a sea. In all, eighteen persons were squeezed into a little 
craft that would have been sufficiently loaded, for moderate 
weather at sea, with its four oarsmen and as many sitters in the 
stern-sheets, with, perhaps, one in the eyes to bring her more 
on an even keel. In other words, she had twice the weight in 
her, in living freight, that it would have been thought prudent 
to receive in so small a craft, in an ordinary time, in or out of 
a port. In addition to the human beings enumerated, there was 
a good deal of baggage, nearly every individual having had the 
forethought to provide a few clothes for a change. The food 
and water did not amount to much, no more having been 
provided than enough for the purposes of the captain, together 
with the four men with whom it had been his intention to 
abandon the brig. The effect of all this cargo was to bring the 
yawl quite low in the water; and every seafaring man in her 
had the greatest apprehensions about her being able to float at 
all when she got out from under the lee of the Swash, or into 
the troubled water. Try it she must, however, and Spike, in a 
reluctant and hesitating manner, gave the final order to “ Shove 
oft'!” 

The yawl carried a lugg, as is usually the case with boats at 
sea, and the first blast of the breeze upon it satisfied Spike that 
his present enterprise was one of the most dangerous of any 
in which he had ever been engaged. The puffs of wind were 
quite as much as the boat would bear; but this he did not 
mind, as he was running off before it, and there was little danger 
of the yawl capsizing with such a weight in her. It was also 
an advantage to have swift way on, to prevent the combing 
waves from shooting into the boat, though the wind itself scarce 
outstrips the send of the sea in a stiff blow. As the yawl 


JACK TIER. 


463 


cleared the brig and began to feel the united power of the wind 
and waves, the following short dialogue occurred between the 
boatswain and Spike. 

“ I dare not keep my eyes off the breakers ahead,” the cap¬ 
tain commenced, “ and must trust to you, Strand, to report what 
is going on among the man-of-war’s men. What is the ship 
about ?” 

“ Reefing her topsails just now, sir. All three are on the 
caps, and the vessel is laying-to, in a manner.” 

“ And her boats ?” 

“ I see none, sir—ay, ay, there they come from alongside of 
her in a little fleet! There are four of them, sir, and all are 
coming down before the wind, wing and wing, carrying their 
luggs reefed.” 

“ Ours ought to be reefed by rights, too, but we dare not stop 
to do it; and these infernal combing seas seem ready to glance 
aboard us with all the way we can gather. Stand by to bail, 
men; we must pass through a strip of white water—there is no 
help for it. God send that we go clear of the rocks!” 

All this was fearfully true. The adventurers were not yet 
more than a cable’s length from the brig, and they found them¬ 
selves so completely environed with the breakers as to be com¬ 
pelled to go through them. No man in his senses would ever 
have come into such a place at all, except in the most unavoid¬ 
able circumstances; and it was with a species of despair that 
the seamen of the yawl now saw their little craft go plunging 
into the foam. 

But Spike neglected no precaution that experience or skill 
could suggest. He had chosen his spot with coolness and judg¬ 
ment. As the boat rose on the seas he looked eagerly ahead, 
and by giving it a timely sheer, he hit a sort of channel, where 
there was suflScient water to carry them clear of the rock, and 
where the breakers were less dangerous than in the shoaler 
places. The passage lasted about a minute; and so serious was 
it, that scarce an individual breathed until it was effected. No 


464 


JACK TIER. 


human skill could prevent the water from combing in over the 
gunwales; and when the danger was passed, the yawl was a 
third filled with water. There was no time or place to pause, 
but on the little craft was dragged almost gunwale to, the breeze 
coming against the lugg in puffs that threatened to take the mast 
out of her. All hands were bailing; and even Biddy used her 
hands to aid in throwing out the water. 

“This is no time to hesitate, men,” said Spike, sternly. “Every 
thing must go overboard but the food and water. Away with 
them at once, and with a will.” 

It was a proof how completely all hands were alarmed by 
this, the first experiment in the breakers, that not a man stayed 
his hand a single moment, but each threw into the sea, without 
an instant of hesitation, every article he had brought with him 
and had hoped to save. Biddy parted with the carpet-bag, and 
Senor Montefalderon, feeling the importance of example, com¬ 
mitted to the deep a small writing-desk that he had placed on 
his knees. The doubloons alone remained, safe in a little locker 
where Spike had deposited them along with his own. 

“ What news astern, boatswain ?” demanded the captain, as 
soon as this imminent danger was passed, absolutely afraid to 
turn his eyes off the dangers ahead for a single instant. “ How 
come on the man-of-war’s men ?” 

“ They are running down in a body towards the wreck, though 
one of- their boats does seem to be sheering out of the line, as 
if getting into our wake. It is hard to say, sir, for they are still 
a good bit to windward of the wreck.” 

“ And the Molly, Strand ?” 

“ Why, sir, the Molly seems to be breaking up fast; as well 
as I can see, she has broke in two just abaft the forechains, 
and cannot hold together in any shape at all many minutes 
longer.” 

This information drew a deep groan from Spike, and the eye 
of every seaman in the boat was turned in melancholy on the 
object they were so fast leaving behind them. The yawl could 


JACK TIER. 


465 


not be said to be sailing very rapidly, considering the power of 
the wind, which was a little gale, for she was much too deep 
for that, but she left the wreck so fast as already to render ob¬ 
jects on board her indistinct. Everybody saw that, like an over¬ 
burdened steed, she had more to get along with than she could 
well bear; and, dependent as seamen usually are on the judg¬ 
ment and orders of their superiors, even in the direst emer¬ 
gencies, the least experienced man in her saw that their chances 
of final escape from drowning were of the most doubtful nature. 
The men looked at each other in a way to express their feelings; 
and the moment seemed favorable to Spike to confer with his 
confidential sea-dogs in private; but more white water was also 
ahead, and it was- necessary to pass through it, since no opening 
was visible by which to avoid it. He deferred his purpose, con¬ 
sequently, until this danger was escaped. 

On this occasion Spike saw but little opportunity to select a 
place to get through the breakers, though the spot, as a whole, 
was not of the most dangerous kind. The reader will under¬ 
stand that the preservation of the boat at all, in white water, 
was owing to the circumstance that the rocks all around it lay 
so near the surface of the sea as to prevent the possibility of 
agitating the element very seriously, and to the fact that she 
was near the lee side of the reef. Had the breakers been of the 
magnitude of those which are seen where the deep rolling bil¬ 
lows of the ocean first meet the weather-side of shoals or rocks, 
a craft of that size, and so loaded, could not possibly have passed 
the first line of white water without filling. As it was, how¬ 
ever, the breakers she had to contend with were sufficiently 
formidable, and they brought with them the certainty that the 
boat was in imminent danger of striking the bottom at any 
moment. Places like those in which Mulford had waded on 
the reef, while it was calm, would now have proved fatal to the 
strongest frame, since human powers were insufficient long to 
withstand the force of such waves as did glance over even these 
shallows. 


20 ^ 


466 


JACK TIER. 


“Look out!” cried Spike, as the boat again plunged in 
among the white water. “ Keep bailing, men—keep bailing.” 

The men did bail, and the danger was over almost as soon as 
encountered. Something like a cheer burst out of the chest of 
Spike, when he saw deeper water around him, and fancied he 
could now trace a channel that would carry him quite beyond 
the extent of the reef. It was arrested, only half uttered, how¬ 
ever, by a communication from the boatswain, who sat on a 
midship thwart, his arms folded, and his eye on the brig and 
the boats. 

“ There goes the Molly’s masts, sir 1 Both have gone to¬ 
gether ; and as good sticks was they, before them bombshells 
passed through our rigging, as was ever stepped in a keelson.” 

The cheer was changed to something like a groan, while 
a murmur of regret passed through the boat. 

“ What news from the man-of-wars men, boatswain ? Do 
they still stand down on a mere wreck f ’ 

“No, sir; they seem to give it up, and are getting out their 
oars to pull back to their ship. A pretty time they’ll have of 
it, too. The cutter that gets to windward half a mile in an 
hour, ag’in such a sea, and such a breeze, must be well pulled 
and better steered. One chap, however, sir, seems to hold on.” 

Spike now ventured to look behind him, commanding an ex¬ 
perienced hand to take the helm. In order to do this he was 
obliged to change places with the man he had selected to come 
aft, which brought him on a thwart alongside of the boat¬ 
swain and one or two other of his confidants. Here a whispered 
conference took place, which lasted several minutes, Spike ap¬ 
pearing to be giving instructions to the men. 

By this time the yawl was more than a mile from the wreck, 
all the man-of-war boats but one had lowered their sails, and 
were pulling slowly and with great labor back towards the ship, 
the cutter that kept on, evidently laying her course after the 
yawl, instead of standing on towards the wreck. The brig was 
breaking up fast, with every probability that nothing would be 


JACK TIER. 


467 


left of her in a few more minutes. As for the yawl, while clear 
of the white water, it got along without receiving many seas 
aboard, though the men in its bottom were kept bailing with¬ 
out intermission. It appeared to Spike that so long as they 
remained on the reef, and could keep clear of breakers—a most 
difficult thing, however—they should fare better than if in 
deeper water, where the swell of the sea, and the combing Oi 
the waves, menaced so small and so deep-loaded a craft with 
serious danger. As it was, two or three men could barely keep 
the boat clear, working incessantly, and much of the time with 
a foot or two of water in her. 

Josh and Simon had taken their seats, side by side, with that 
sort of dependence and submission that causes the American 
black to abstain from mingling with the Avhites more than 
might appear seemly. They were squeezed on to one end of 
the thwart by a couple of robust old sea-dogs, who were two 
of the very men with whom Spike had been in consultation. 
Beneath that very thwart was stowed another confidant, to 
whom communications had also been made. These men had 
sailed long in the Swash, and having been picked up in various 
ports, from time to time, as the brig had wanted hands, they 
were of nearly as many different nations as they were persons. 
Spike had obtained a great ascendency over them by habit and 
authority, and his suggestions were now received as a sort of 
law. As soon as the conference was ended, the captain returned 
to the helm. 

A minute more passed, during which the captain was anxious¬ 
ly surveying the reef ahead, and the state of things astern. 
Ahead was more white water—the last before they should get 
clear of the reef; and astern it was now settled that the cutter 
that held on through the dangers of the place, was in chase of 
the yawl. That Mulford was in her Spike made no doubt; and 
the thought embittered even his present calamities. But the 
moment had arrived for something decided. The white water 
ahead was much more formidable than any they had passed; 


468 


JACK TIER. 


and the boldest seaman there gazed at it with dread. Spike 
made a sign to the boatswain, and commenced the execution of 
his dire project. 

“ I say, you Josh,” called out the captain, in the authorita¬ 
tive tones that are so familiar to all on board a ship, “ pull in 
that fender that is dragging alongside.” 

Josh leaned over the gunwale, and reported that there was 
no fender out. A malediction followed, also so familiar to 
those acquainted with ships, and the black was told to look 
again. This time, as had been expected, the negro leaned with 
his head and body far over the side of the yawl, to look for that 
which had no existence, when two of the men beneath the 
thwart shoved his legs after them. Josh screamed, as he found 
himself going into the water, with a sort of confused conscious¬ 
ness of the truth; and Spike called out to Simon to “ catch 
hold of his brother-nigger.” The cook bent forward to obey, 
when a similar assault on his legs from beneath the thwart, 
sent him headlong after Josh. One of the younger seamen, 
who was not in the secret, sprang up to rescue Simon, who 
grasped his extended hand, when the too generous fellow was 
pitched headlong from the boat. 

All this occurred in less than ten seconds of time, and so un¬ 
expectedly and naturally, that not a soul beyond those who 
were in the secret, had the least suspicion it was any thing but 
an accident. Some water was shipped, of necessity, but the 
boat was soon bailed free. As for the victims of this vile con¬ 
spiracy, they disappeared amid the troubled waters of the reef, 
Btruggling with each other. Each and all met the common 
fate so much the sooner, from, the manner in which they im¬ 
peded their own efforts. 

The yawl was now relieved from about five hundred pounds 
of the weight it had carried—Simon weighing two hundred 
alone, and the youngish seaman being large and full. So in¬ 
tense does human selfishness get to be, in moments of great 
emergency, that it is to be feared most of those who remained. 


JACK TIER. 


469 


secretly rejoiced that they were so far benefited by the loss of 
their fellows. The Senor Montefalderon was seated on the 
aftermost thwart, with his legs in the stern-sheets, and conse¬ 
quently with his back towards the negroes, and he fully believed 
that what had happened was purely accidental. 

“ Let us lower our sail, Don Esteban,” he cried, eagerly, 
“ and save the poor fellows.” 

Something very like a sneer gleamed on the dark counte¬ 
nance of the captain, but it suddenly changed to a look of assent. 

“Good!” he said, hastily—“spring foi-ward, Don Wan, and 
lower the sail—stand by the oars, men !” 

Without pausing to reflect, the generous-hearted Mexican 
stepped on a thwart, and began to walk rapidly forward, steady¬ 
ing himself by placing his hands on the heads of the men. He 
was suffered to get as far as the second thwart, or past most of 
the conspirators, when his legs were seized from behind. The 
truth now flashed on him, and grasping two of the men in his 
front, who knew nothing of Spike’s dire scheme, he endeavored 
to save himself by holding to their jackets. Thus assailed, 
those men seized others with like intent, and an awful struggle 
filled all that part of the craft. At this dread instant the boat 
glanced into the white water, shipping so much of the element 
as nearly to swamp her, and taking so wild a sheer as nearly 
to broach-to. This last circumstance probably saved her, fear¬ 
ful as was the danger for the moment. Everybody in the 
middle of the yawl was rendered desperate by the amount and 
nature of the danger incurred, and the men from the bottom 
rose in their might, underneath the combatants, when a com¬ 
mon plunge was made by all who stood erect, one dragging 
overboard another, each a good deal hastened by the assault 
from beneath, until no less than five were gone. Spike got his 
helm up, thet)oat fell off, and away from the spot it flew, clear¬ 
ing the breakers, and reaching the northern wall-like margin 
of the reef at the next instant. There was now a moment when 
those who remained could breathe, and dared to look behind them. 


4*70 


JACK TIER. 


The great plunge had been made in water so shoal that the 
boat had barely escaped being dashed to pieces on the coral. 
Had it not been so suddenly relieved from the pressure of near 
a thousand pounds in weight, it is probable that this calamity 
would have befallen it, the water received on board contribu¬ 
ting so much to weigh it down. The struggle between these 
victims ceased, however, the moment they went over. Find¬ 
ing bottom for their feet, they released each other, in the des¬ 
perate hope of prolonging life by wading. Two or three held 
out their arms, and shouted to Spike to return and pick them 
up. This dreadful scene lasted but a single instant, for the 
waves dashed one after another from his feet, continually forcing 
them all, as they occasionally regained their footing, towards 
the margin of the reef, and finally washing them off into deep 
water. No human power could enable a man to swim back to 
the rocks, once to leeward of them, in the face of such seas, and 
so heavy a blow; and the miserable wretches disappeared in 
succession, as their strength became exhausted, in flie depths of 
the Gulf. 

Not a word had been uttered while this terrific scene was in 
the course of occurrence; not a Avord was uttered for some 
time aftei’Avards. Gleams of grim satisfaction had been seen on 
the countenances of the boatswain and his associates, Avhen the 
success of their nefarious project was first assured; but they 
soon disappeared in looks of horror, as they witnessed the strug¬ 
gles of the drowning men. Nevertheless, human selfishness 
Avas strong Avithin them all, and none there Avas so ignorant as 
not to perceive hoAv much better Avere the chances of the yaAvl 
noAv than it had been on quitting the Avreck. The Aveight of 
a large ox had been taken from it, counting that of all the 
eight men droAvned; and as for the Avater shipped, it Avas soon 
bailed back again into the sea. Not only, ther^ore, Avas the 
yaAvl in a better condition to resist the Avaves, but it sailed ma- 
tei'ially faster than it had done before. Ten persons still re¬ 
mained in it, however, Avhich brought it doAvn in the Avater 


JACK T I K H. 


471 


below its proper load-line; and the speed of a craft so small 
was necessarily a good deal lessened by the least deviation 
from its best sailing or rowing trim. But Spike’s projects were 
not yet completed. 

All this time the man-of-war’s cutter had been rushing as 
madly through the breakers, in chase, as the yawl had done in 
the attempt to escape. Mulford was, in fact, on board it; and 
his now fast friend, Wallace, was in command. The latter 
wished to seize the traitor, the former to save the aunt of his 
weeping bride. Both believed that they might follow wherever 
Spike dared to lead. This reasoning was more bold than judi¬ 
cious, notwithstanding, since the cutter was much larger, and 
drew twice as much water as the yawl. On it came, never¬ 
theless, faring much better in the white water than the little 
craft it pursued, but necessarily running a much more consid¬ 
erable risk of hitting the coral, over which it was glancing al¬ 
most as swiftly as the waves themselves ; still it had thus far 
escaped—and little did any in it think of the danger. This 
cutter pulled ten oars; was an excellent sea-boat; had four 
armed marines in it, in addition to its crew, but carried all 
through the breakers, receiving scarcely a drop of water on 
board, on account of the height of its wash-boards, and the 
general qualities of the craft. It may be well to add here, that 
the Poughkeepsie had shaken out her reefs, and was betraying 
the impatience of Captain Mull to make sail in chase, by firing 
signal-guns to his boats to bear a hand and return. These 
signals the three boats under their oars were endeavoring to 
obey; but Wallace had got so far to leeward as now to render 
the course he was pursuing the wisest. 

ISIrs. Budd and Biddy had seen the struggle in which the 
Senor Montefalderon had been lost, in a sort of stupid hori-or. 
Both had screamed, as was their wont, though neither proba¬ 
bly suspected the truth. But the fell designs of Spike ex¬ 
tended to them, as well as to those whom he had already 
destroyed. Now the boat was in deep water, running along 


472 


JACK TIER. 


the margin of the reef, the waves were much increased in mag¬ 
nitude, and the comb of the sea was far more menacing to the 
boat. This would not have been the case had the rocks formed 
a lee; but they did not, running too near the direction of the 
trades to prevent the billows, that got up a mile or so in the 
offing, from sending their swell quite home to the reef. It was 
this swell, indeed, which caused the line of white water along 
the northern margin of the coral, washing on the rocks by a 
sort of lateral effort, and breaking, as a matter of course. In 
many places, no boat could have lived to pass through it. 

Another consideration influenced Spike to persevere. The 
cutter had been overhauling him, hand over hand, but since 
the yawl was relieved of the weight of no less than eight men, 
the difference in the rate of sailing was manifestly diminished. 
The man-of-war’s boat drew nearer, but by no means as fast as 
it had previously done. A point was now reached in the trim of 
the yawl, when a very few hundreds in weight might make the 
most important change in her favor; and this change the cap¬ 
tain was determined to produce. By this time the cutter was 
in deep water, as well as himself, safe through all the dangers 
of the reef, and she was less than a quarter of a mile astern. 
On the whole, she was gaining, though so slowly as to require 
the most experienced eye to ascertain the fact. 

“ Madame Budd,” said Spike, in a hypocritical tone, “ we are 
in great danger, and I shall have to ask you to change your 
seat. The boat is too much by the starn, now we’ve got into 
deep water, and your weight amidships would be a great relief 
to us. Just give your hand to the boatswain, and he will help 
you to step from thwart to thwart, until you reach the right 
place, when Biddy shall follow.” 

Now Mrs. Budd had witnessed the tremendous struggle in 
which so many had gone overboard, but so dull was she of ap¬ 
prehension, and so little disposed to suspect any thing one half 
so monstrous as the truth, that she did not hesitate to comply. 
She was profoundly awed by the horrors of the scene through 


JACK TIER. 


473 


which she was passing, the raging billows of the Gulf, as seen 
from so small a craft, producing a deep impression on her; still 
a lingering of her most inveterate affectation was to be found 
in her air and language, which presented a strange medley of 
besetting weakness, and strong, natural, womanly affection. 

“ Certainly, Captain Spike,” she answered, rising. “ A craft 
should never go astern, and I am quite willing to ballast the 
boat. We have seen such terrible accidents to-day, that all 
should lend their aid in endeavoring to get under way, and in 
averting all possible hamper. Only take me to my poor, dear 
Rosy, Captain Spike, and every thing shall be forgotten that 
has passed between us. This is not a moment to bear malice; 
and I freely pardon you all and every thing. The fate of our 
unfortunate friend, Mr. Montefalderon, should teach us charity, 
and cause us to prepare for untimely ends.” 

All the time the good widow was making this speech, which 
she uttered in a solemn and oracular sort of manner, she was 
moving slowly towards the seat the men had prepared for her, 
in the middle of the boat, assisted with the greatest care and 
attention by the boatswain and another of Spike’s confidants. 
When on the second thwart from aft, and about to take her 
seat, the boatswain cast a look behind him, and Spike put the 
helm down. The boat luffed and lurched, of course, and Mrs. 
Budd would probably have gone overboard to leeward, by so 
sudden and violent a change, had not the impetus thus re¬ 
ceived been aided by the arms of the men who held her two 
hands. The plunge she made into the water was deep, for she 
was a woman of great weight for her stature. Still, she was 
not immediately gotten rid of. Even at that dread instant, it 
is probable that the miserable woman did not suspect the truth, 
for she grasped the hand of the boatswain with the tenacity of 
a vice, and, thus dragged on the surface of the boiling surges, 
she screamed aloud for Spike to save her. Of all who had yet 
been sacrificed to the captain’s selfish wish to save himself, this 
was the first instance in which any had been heard to utter a 


474 


JACK TIER. 


sound after falling into the sea. The appeal shocked even the 
rude beings around her, and Biddy chiming in with a powerful 
appeal to “ save the missus!” added to the piteous nature of the 
scene. 

“ Cast off her hand,” said Spike reproachfully, “ she’ll swamp 
the boat by her struggles—get rid of her at once! Cut her 
fingers off, if she won’t let go!” 

The instant these brutal orders were given, and that in a 
fierce, impatient tone, the voice of Biddy was heard no more. 
The truth forced itself on her dull imagination, and she sat a 
witness of the terrible scene, in mute despair. The struggle did 
not last long. The boatswain drew his knife across the wrist of 
the hand that grasped his own, one shriek was heard, and the 
boat plunged into the trough of a sea, leaving the form of poor 
Mrs. Budd struggling with the wave on its summit, and amid 
the foam of its crest. This was the last that was ever seen of 
the unfortunate relict. 

“ The boat has gained a good deal by that last discharge of 
cargo,” said Spike to the boatswain, a minute after they had 
gotten rid of the struggling woman—“ she is much more lively, 
and is getting nearer to her load-line. If we can bring her to 
that^ I shall have no fear of the man-of-war’s men; for this 
yawl is one of the fastest boats that ever floated.” 

“ A very little now^ sir, would bring us to our true trim.” 

“ Ay, we must get rid of more ciirgo. Come, good woman,” 
turning to Biddy, with whom he did not think it worth his while 
to use much circumlocution, “yowr turn is next. It’s the maid’s 
duty to follow her mistress.” 

“ I know’d it must come,” said Biddy, meekly. “ If there was 
no mercy for the missus, little could I look for. But ye’ll not 
take the life of a Christian Avoman widout giving her so much 
as one minute to say her prayers ?” 

“ Ay, pray away,” answered Spike, his throat becoming dry 
and husky, for, strange to say, the submissive quiet of the Irish 
woman, so different from the struggle he had anticipated with 


JACK TIER. 


415 


her^ rendered him more reluctant to proceed than he had hitherto 
been in all of that terrible day. As Biddy kneeled in the bot¬ 
tom of the stern-sheets, Spike looked behind him, for the double 
purpose of escaping the painful spectacle at his feet, and that 
of ascertaining how his pursuers came on. The last still gained, 
though very slowly, and doubts began to come over the cap¬ 
tain’s mind whether he could escape such enemies at all. He 
was too deeply committed, however, to recede, and it was most 
desirable to get rid of poor Biddy, if it were for no other 
motive than to shut her mouth. Spike even fancied that 
some idea of what had passed was entertained by those in the 
cutter. There was evidently a stir in that boat, and two forms 
that he had no difficulty, now, in recogni 2 dng as those of Wal¬ 
lace and Mulford, were standing on the grating in the eyes of 
the cutter, or forward of the foresail. The former appeared to 
have a musket in his hand, and the other a glass. The last 
circumstance admonished him that all that was now done 
would be done before dangerous witnesses. It was too late to 
draw back, however, and the captain turned to look for the Irish 
woman. 

Biddy arose from her knees, just as Spike withdrew his eyes 
from his pursuers. The boatswain and another confidant were 
in readiness to cast the poor creature into the sea, the moment 
their leader gave the signal. The intended victim saw and un¬ 
derstood the arrangement, and she spoke earnestly and piteously 
to her murderers. 

“ It’s not wanting will he violence!” said Biddy, in a quiet 
tone, but with a saddened countenance. “ I know it’s my turn, 
and I will save yer sowls from a part of the burden of this great 
sin. God, and His Divine Son, and the Blessed Mother of Jesus 
have mercy on me if it be wrong; but I would far radder jump 
into the saa widout having the rude hands of man on me, than 
have the dreadful sight of the missus done over ag’in. It’s a 
fearful thing is wather, and sometimes we have too little of it, 
and sometimes more than we want—” 


476 


JACK TIER. 


“ Bear a hand, bear a hand, good woman,” interrupted the 
boatswain, impatiently. “We must clear the boat of you, and 
the sooner it is done the better it will be for all of us.” 

“ Don’t grudge a poor morthal half a minute of life, at the last 
moment,” answered Biddy. “ It’s not long that I’ll throuble ye, 
and so no more need be said.” 

The poor creature then got on the quarter of the boat, with¬ 
out any one’s touching her; there she placed herself with her 
legs outboard, while she sat on the gunwale. She gave one 
moment to the thought of arranging her clothes with womanly 
decency, and then she paused to gaze with a fixed eye, and 
pallid cheek, on the foaming wake that marked the rapid course 
of the boat. The troughs of the sea seemed less terrible to her 
than their combing crests, and she waited for the boat to descend 
into the next. 

“ God forgive ye all this deed, as I do!” said Biddy, earnestly; 
and bending her person forward, she fell, as it might be “with¬ 
out hands,” into the gulf of eternity. Though all strained their 
eyes, none of the men, Jack Tier excepted, ever saw more of 
Biddy Noon. Nor did Jack see much. He got a frightful 
glimpse of an arm, however, on the summit of a wave, but the 
motion of the boat was too swift, and the water of the ocean 
too troubled, to admit of aught else. 

A long pause succeeded this event. Biddy’s quiet submission 
to her fate had produced more impression on her murderers than 
the desperate, but unavailing, struggles of those who had pre¬ 
ceded her. Thus it is ever with men. When opposed, the 
demon within blinds them to consequences as well as to their 
duties; but, unresisted, the silent influence of the image of 
God makes itself felt, and a better spirit begins to prevail. 
There was not one in that boat who did not, for a brief 
space, wish that poor Biddy had been spared. With most, 
that feeling, the last of human kindness they ever knew, lin¬ 
gered until the occurrence of the dread catastrophe which, so 
shortly after, closed the scene of this state of being on their eyes. 


JACK TIER. 


4 ' 7'7 


“Jack Tier,” called out Spike, some five minutes after Biddy 
was drowned, but not until another observation had made it 
plainly apparent to him that the man-of-war’s men still con¬ 
tinued to draw nearer, being now not more than fair musket- 
shot astern. 

“ Ay, ay, sir,” answered Jack, coming quietly out of his hole, 
from forward of the mast, and moving aft as if indifferent to 
the danger, by stepping lightly from thwart to thwart, until he 
reached the stern-sheets. 

“ It is your turn, little Jack,” said Spike, as if in a sort of 
sorrowful submission to a necessity that knew no law, “ we can¬ 
not spare you the room.” 

“ I have expected this, and am ready. Let me have my own 
way, and I will cause you no trouble. Poor Biddy has taught 
me how to die. Before I go, however, Stephen Spike, I must 
leave you this letter. It is written by myself, and addressed to 
you. When I am gone, read it, and think well of what it con¬ 
tains. And now, may a merciful God pardon the sins of both, 
through love for His Divine Son. I forgive you, Stephen ; and 
should you live to escape from those who are now bent on 
hunting you to the death, let this day cause you no grief on my 
account. Give me but a moment of time, and I will cause you 
no trouble.” . 

Jack now stood upon the seat of the stern-sheets, balancing 
himself with oue foot on the stern of the boat. He waited 
until the yawl had risen to the summit of a wave, when he 
looked eagerly for the man-of-war’s cutter. At that moment 
she was lost to view in the trough of the sea. Instead of spring¬ 
ing overboard, as all expected, he asked another instant of 
delay. The yawl sank into the trough itself, and rose on the 
succeeding billow. Then he saw the cutter, and Wallace and 
Mulford standing in its bows. He waved his hat to them, and 
sprang high into the air, with the intent to make himself seen; 
when he came down, the boat had shot her length away from 
the place, leaving him to buffet with the waves. Jack now 


478 


JACK TIER. 


managed admirably, swimming ligbtly and easily, but keeping 
bis eyes on the crests of the waves, with a view to meet the 
cutter. Spike now saw this well-planned project to avoid 
death, and regretted his own remissness in not making sure of 
Jack. Everybody in the yawl was eagerly looking after the 
form of Tier. 

“ There he is, on the comb of that sea, rolling over like a 
keg!” cried the boatswain. 

“He’s through it,” answered Spike, “and swimming with 
great strength and coolness.” 

Several of the men started up involuntarily and simultane¬ 
ously to look, hitting their shoulders and bodies together. Dis¬ 
trust was at its most painful height; and bulldogs do not spring 
at the ox’s muzzle more fiercely than those six men throttled 
each other. Oaths, curses, and appeals for help, succeeded; 
each man endeavoring, in his frenzied etforts, to throw all the 
others overboard, as the only means of saving himself. Plunge 
succeeded plunge; and when that combat of demons ended, no 
one remained of them all but the boatswain. Spike had taken 
no share in the struggle, looking on in grim satisfaction, as the 
Father of Lies may be supposed to regard all human strife, 
hoping good to himself, let the result be what it might to others. 
Of the five men who thus went overboard, not one escaped. 
They drowned each other by continuing their maddened con¬ 
flict in an element unsuited to their natures. 

Not so with Jack Tier. His leap had been seen, and a dozen 
eyes in the cutter watched for his person, as that boat came 
foaming down before the wind. A shout of “ There he is!” 
from Mulford, succeeded; and the little fellow was caught by 
the hair, secured, and then hauled into the boat by the second 
lieutenant of the Poughkeepsie and our young mate. 

Others in the cutter had noted the incident of the hellish 
fight. The fact was communicated to Wallace, and Mulford 
said, “ That yawl will outsail this loaded cutter, with only two 
men in it.” 


JACK TIER. 


479 


“ Then it is time to try what virtue there is in lead,” an¬ 
swered Wallace. “ Marines, come forward, and give the rascal 
a volley.” 

The volley was fired; one ball passed through the head of 
the boatswain, killing him dead on the spot. Another went 
through the body of Spike. The captain fell in the stern-sheets, 
and the boat instantly broached-to. 

The water that came on board apprised Spike fully of the 
state in which he was now placed, and by a desperate effort, he 
clutched the tiller, and got the yawl again before the wind. 
This could not last, however. Little by little his hold relaxed, 
until his hand relinquished its grasp altogether, and the wounded 
man sank into the bottom of the stern-sheets, unable to raise 
even his head. Again the boat broached-to. Every sea now 
sent its water aboard, and the yawl would soon have filled, had 
not the cutter come glancing down past it, and rounding-to 
under its lee, secured the prize. 


480 


JACK TIER. 


CHAPTER XVI. 

“ Man bath a weary pilgrimage, 

As through the world he wends; 

On every stage, from youth to age, 

Still discontent attends; 

With heaviness he casts his eye 
Upon the road before. 

And still remembers with a sigh 
The days that are no more.” 

Southey. 

It has now become necessary to advance the time three en¬ 
tire days, and to change the scene to Key West. As this latter 
place may not be known to the world at large, it may be well 
to explain that it is a small seaport, situate on one of the largest 
of the many low islands that dot the Florida Reef, that has 
risen into notice, or indeed into existence as a town, since the 
acquisition of the Floridas by the American republic. For 
many years it was the resort of few besides wreckers, and those 
who live by the business dependent on the rescuing and repair¬ 
ing of stranded vessels, not forgetting the salvages. When it 
is remembered that the greater portion of the vessels that enter 
the Gulf of Mexico stand close along this reef, before the trades, 
for a distance varying from one to two hundred miles, and that 
nearly every thing which quits it, is obliged to beat down its 
rocky coast in the Gulf Stream for the same distance, one is not 
to be surprised that the wrecks, w^hich so constantly occur, can 
supply the wants of a considerable population. To live at Key 
West is the next thing to being at sea. The place has sea air, 
no other water than such as is preserved in cisterns, and no 
soil, or go little as to render even a head of lettuce a rarity. 
Turtle is abundant, and the business of “ turtling” forms an oc¬ 
cupation additional to that of wrecking. As might be expected. 


JACK TIER. 


481 


in such circumstances, a potato is a far more precious thing 
than a turtle’s egg, and a sack of the tubers would probably be 
deemed a sufficient remuneration for enough of the materials of 
callfpash and callipee to feed all the aldermen extant. 

Of late years, the government of the United States has turned 
its attention to the capabilities of the Florida Reef, as an ad¬ 
vanced naval station—a sort of Downs, or St. Helen’s Roads, 
for the West Indian seas. As yet little has been done beyond 
making the preliminary surveys, but the day is not probably 
very distant when fleets will lie at anchor among the islets de¬ 
scribed in our earlier chapters, or garnish the flne waters of Key 
West. For a long time it was thought that even frigates would 
have a difficulty in entering and quitting the port of the latter, 
but it is said that recent explorations have discovered channels 
capable of admitting any thing that floats. Still, Key W^est is 
a town yet in its chrysalis state, possessing the promise rather 
than the fruition of the prosperous days which are in reserve. 
It may be well to add, that it lies a very little north of the 24th 
degree of latitude, and in longitude quite five degrees west from 
Washington. Until the recent conquests in Mexico, it was the 
most southern possession of the American government, on the 
eastern side of the continent; Cape St. Lucas, at the extremity 
of Lower California, however, being two degrees farther south. 

It will give the foreign reader a more accurate notion of the 
character of Key West, if we mention a fact of quite recent oc¬ 
currence. A very few weeks after the closing scenes of this 
tale, the town in question was, in a great measure, washed 
away! A hurricane brought in the sea upon all these islands 
and reefs, water running in swift currents over places that, 
within the memory of man, were never before submerged. 
The lower part of Key West was converted into a raging sea, 
and every thing in that quarter of the place disappeared. The 
foundation being of rock, however, when the ocean retired the 
island came into view again, and industry and enterprise set to 
work to repair the injuries. 


21 


482 


JACK TIER. 


The government lias established a small hospital for seamen 
at Key West. Into one of the rooms of the building thus ap¬ 
propriated, our narrative must now conduct the reader. It 
contained but a single patient, and that was Spike. He was 
on his narrow bed, which was to be but the precursor of a still 
narrower tenement—the grave. In the room with the dying 
man were two females, in one of whom our readers will at once 
recognize the person of Rose Budd, dressed in deep mourning 
for her aunt. At first sight, it is probable that a casual spec¬ 
tator would mistake the second female for one of the ordinary 
nurses of the place. Her attire was well enough, though worn 
awkwardly, and as if its owner were not exactly at ease in it. 
She had the air of one in her best attire, who was unaccus¬ 
tomed to be dressed above the most common mode. What 
added to the singularity of her appearance, was the fact that, 
while she wore no cap, her hair had been cut into short, gray 
bristles, instead of being long and turned up, as is usual with 
females. To give a sort of climax to this uncouth appearance, 
this strange-looking creature chewed tobacco. 

The woman in question, equivocal as might be her exterior, 
was employed in one of the commonest avocations of her sex— 
that of sewing. She held in her hand a coarse garment, one 
of Spike’s, in fact, which she seemed to be intently busy in 
mending; although the work was of a quality that invited the 
use of the palm and sail-needle, rather than that of the thimble 
and the spaallcr implement known to seamstresses, the woman 
appeared awkward in her business, as if her coarse-looking and 
dark hands refused to lend themselves to an occupation so 
feminine. Nevertheless, there were touches of a purely woman¬ 
ly character about this extraordinary person, and touches that 
particularly attracted the attention, and awakened the sympa¬ 
thy of the gentle Rose, her companion. Tears occasionally 
struggled out from beneath her eyelids, crossed her dark, sun¬ 
burnt cheek, and fell on the coarse canvas garment that lay in 
her lap. It was after one of these sudden and strong exhibi- 


JACK TIER. 


483 


tions of feeling that Rose approached her, laid her own little, 
fair hand, in a friendly way, though unheeded, on the other’s 
shoulder, and spoke to her in her kindest and softest tones. 

“Ido really think he is reviving. Jack,” said Rose, “and 
that you may yet hope to have an intelligent conversation with 
him.’’ 

“ They all agree he must die,” answered Jack Tier—for it 
was he, appearing in the garb of his proper sex, after a disguise 
that had now lasted fully twenty years—“ and he will never 
know who I am, and that I forgive him. He must think of 
me in another world, though he isn’t able to do it in this; but 
it would be a great relief to his soul to know that I forgive him.” 

“ To be sure, a man must like to take a kind leave of his 
own wife before he closes his eyes forever; and I dare say it 
would be a great relief to you to tell him that you have forgot¬ 
ten his desertion of you, and all the hardships it has brought 
upon you in searching for him, and in earning your own liveli¬ 
hood as a common sailor.” 

“ I shall not tell him I’ve forgotten it, Miss Rose; that would 
be untrue—and there shall be no more deception between us; 
but I shall tell him that I forgive him, as I hope God will one 
day forgive me all m\j sins.” 

“It is, certainly, not a light offence to desert a wife in a 
foreign land, and then to seek to deceive another woman,” 
quietly observed Rose. 

“ He’s a willian !” muttered the wife ; “ but—but—” 

“You forgive him. Jack—yes, I’m sure you do. You are 
too good a Christian to refuse to forgive him.” 

“ I’m a woman a’ter all. Miss Rose; and that, I believe, is the 
truth of it. I suppose I ought to do as you say, for the rea¬ 
son you mention; but I’m his wife—and once he loved me, 
though that has long been over. When I first knew Stephen, 
I’d the sort of feelin’s you speak of, and was a very different 
creatur’ from what you see me to-day. Change comes over us 
all with years and sufferin’.” 


484 


JACK TIER. 


Rose did not answer, but she stood looking intently at the 
speaker more than a minute. Change had, indeed, come over 
her, if she had ever possessed the power to please the fancy of 
any living man. Her features had always seemed diminutive 
and mean for her assumed sex, as her voice was small and 
cracked; but, making every allowance for the probabilities, 
Rose found it difficult to imagine that Jack Tier had ever pos¬ 
sessed, even under the high advantages of youth and innocence, 
the attractions so common to her sex. Her skin had acquired 
the tanning of the sea; the expression of her face had become 
hard and worldly; and her habits contributed to render those 
natural consequences of exposure and toil even more than 
usually marked and decided. By saying “ habits,” however, 
we do not mean that Jack had ever drunk to excess, as hap¬ 
pens with so many seamen, for this would have been doing her 
injustice, but she smoked and chewed—practices that intoxi¬ 
cate in another form, and lead nearly as many to the grave as 
excess in drinking. Thus all the accessories about this singu¬ 
lar being, partook of the character of her recent life and duties. 
Her walk was between a waddle and a seaman’s roll; her hands 
were discolored with tar, and had got to be full of knuckles, 
and even her feet had degenerated into that flat, broad-toed 
form that, perhaps, sooner distinguishes caste, in connection 
with outward appearances, than any other physical peculiarity. 
Yet this being had once been young—had once been even /(x^V, 
and had once possessed that feminine air and lightness of form, 
that as often belongs to the youthful American of her sex, per¬ 
haps, as to the girl of any other nation on earth. Rose con¬ 
tinued to gaze at her companion for some time, when she 
walked musingly to a window that looked out upon the port. 

“ I am not certain whether it would do him good or not to 
see this sight,” she said, addressing the wife kindly, doubtful of 
the effect of her words even on the latter. “ But here are the 
sloop-of-war, and several other vessels.” 

“ Ay, she is there ; but never will his foot be put on board 


JACK TIER. 


485 


the Swash ag’in. When he bought that brig I was still young, 
and agreeable to him; and he gave her my maiden name, 
which was Mary, or Molly Swash. But that is all changed; I 
wonder he did not change the name with his change of feelin’s.” 

“Then you did really sail in the brig in former times, and 
knew the seaman whose name you assumed ?” 

“ Many years. Tier, with whose name I made free, on ac¬ 
count of his size, and some resemblance to me in form, died 
under my care ; and his protection fell into my hands, which 
first put the notion into my head of hailing as his representa¬ 
tive. Yes, I knew Tier in the brig, and we were left ashore at 
the same time; I, intentionally, I make no question; he, be¬ 
cause Stephen Spike was in a hurry, and did not choose to wait 
for a man. The poor fellow caught the yellow fever the very 
next day, and did not live eight-and-forty hours. So the world 
goes; them that wish to live, die ; and them that wants to die, 
live!” 

“ You have had a hard time for one of your sex, poor Jack— 
quite twenty years a sailor, did you not tell me ?” 

“ Every day of it. Miss Rose—and bitter years have they 
been ; for the whole of that time have I been in chase of my 
husband, keeping my own secret, and slaving like a horse for a 
livelihood.” * 

“You could not have been old when he left—that is, when 
you parted.” 

“ Call it by its true name, and say at once, when he desarted 
me. I was under thirty by two or three years, and was still 
like my own sex to look at. All that is changed since ; but I 
was comely thenP 

“ Why did Captain Spike abandon you. Jack? you have 
never told me that'"’ 

“ Because he fancied another. And ever since that time he 
has been fancying others, instead of remembering me. Had he 
got yow. Miss Rose, I think he would have been content for the 
rest of his days.” 


486 


JACK TIER. 


“ Be certain, Jack, I should never have consented to marry 
Captain Spike.” 

“You’re well out of his hands,” answered Jack, sighing 
heavily, which was the most feminine thing she had done 
during the whole conversation, “well out of his hands— 
and God be praised it is so. He should have died, before 
I would let him carry you off the island—husband or no hus¬ 
band.” 

“ It might have exceeded your power to prevent it under 
other circumstances. Jack.” 

Rose now continued looking out of the window in silence. 
Her thoughts reverted to her aunt and Biddy, and tears rolled 
down her cheeks as she remembered the love of one, and the 
fidelity of the other. Their horrible fate had given her a 
shock that, at first, menaced her with a severe fit of illness; 
but her strong, good sense, and excellent constitution, both 
sustained by her piety and Harry’s manly tenderness, had 
brought her through the danger, and left her, as the reader 
now sees her, struggling with her own griefs, in order to be of 
use to the still more unhappy woman who had so singularly be¬ 
come her friend and companion. 

The reader will readily have anticipated that Jack Tier had 
early made the females on board the Swash her confidants. 
Rose had known the outlines of her history from the first few 
days they were at sea together, which is the explanation of the 
visible intimacy that had caused Mulford so much surprise. 
Jack’s motive in making his revelations might possibly have 
been tinctured with jealousy, but a desire to save one as young 
and innocent as Rose was at its bottom. Few persons but a 
wife would have supposed our heroine could have been in any 
danger from a lover like Spike; but Jack saw him with the 
eyes of her own youth, and of past recollections, rather than 
with those of truth. A movement of the wounded man first 
drew Rose from the window. Drying her eyes hastily, she 
turned towards him, fancying she might prove the better nurse 


JACK TIER. 


487 


of the two, notwithstanding Jack’s greater interest in the pa¬ 
tient. 

“What place is this—and why am I here?” demanded 
Spike, with more strength of voice than could have been ex¬ 
pected, after all that had passed. “ This is not a cabin—not 
the Swash—it looks like a hospital.” 

“ It is a hospital. Captain Spike,” said Rose, gently drawing 
near the bed; “ you have been hurt, and have been brought to 
Key West and placed in the hospital. I hope you feel better, 
and that you sutfer no pain.” 

“ My head isn’t right—I don’t know—every thing seems 
turned round with me—perhaps it will all come out as it 
should. I begin to remember—where is my brig ?” 

“ She is lost on the rocks. The seas have broken her into 
fragments.” 

“ That’s melancholy news, at any rate. Ah! Miss Rose! 
God bless you—I’ve had terrible dreams. Well, it’s pleasant 
to be among friends—what creature is that—where does she 
come from ?” 

“That is Jack Tier,” answered Rose, steadily. “ She turns 
out to be a woman, and has put on her proper dress, in order 
to attend on you during your illness. Jack has never left your 
bedside since we have been here.” 

A long silence succeeded this revelation. Jack’s eyes 
twinkled, and she hitched her body half aside, as if to conceal 
her features, where emotions that were unusual were at work 
with the muscles. Rose thought it might be well to leave the 
man and wife alone—and she managed to get out of the room 
unobserved. 

Spike continued to gaze at the strange-looking female, who 
was now his sole companion. Gradually his recollection re¬ 
turned, and with it the full consciousness of his situation. He 
might not have been fully aware of the absolute certainty of 
his approaching death, but he must have known that his wound 
was of a very grave character, and that the result might early 


488 


JACK TIER. 


prove fatal. Still that strange and unknown figure haunted 
him; a figure that was so different from any he had ever seen 
before, and which, in spite of its present dress, seemed to belong 
quite as much to one sex as to the other. As for Jack—we call 
Molly, or Mary Swash by her masculine appellation, not only 
because it is more familiar, but because the other name seems 
really out of place, as applied to such a person—as for Jack, 
then, she sat with her face half averted, thumbing the canvas, 
and endeavoring to ply the needle, but perfectly mute. She 
was conscious that Spike’s eyes were on her; and a lingering 
feeling of her sex told her how much time, exposure, and cir¬ 
cumstances had changed her person—and she would gladly 
have hidden the defects in her appearance. 

Mary Swash was the daughter as well as the wife of a ship¬ 
master. In her youth, as has been said before, she had even 
been pretty, and down to the day when her husband deserted 
her, she would have been thought a female of a comely ap¬ 
pearance rather than the reverse. Her hair in particular, 
though slightly coarse, perhaps, had been rich and abundant; 
and the change from the long, dark, shining, flowing locks 
which she still possessed in her thirtieth year, to the short, gray 
bristles that now stood exposed without a cap, or covering of 
any sort, was one very likely to destroy all identity of appear¬ 
ance. Then J ack had passed from what might be called youth 
to the verge of old age, in the interval that she had been sepa¬ 
rated from her husband. Her shape had changed entirely; 
her complexion was utterly gone; and her features, always un¬ 
meaning, though feminine and suitable to her sex, had become 
hard and slightly coarse. Still there was something of her 
former self about Jack that bewildered Spike; and his eyes 
continued fastened on her for quite a quarter of an hour in pro¬ 
found silence. 

“ Give me some water,” said the wounded man, “ I wish some 
water to drink.” 

Jack arose, filled a tumbler and brought it to the side of the 


JACK TIER. 


489 


bed. Spike took the glass and drank, but the whole time his 
eyes were riveted on the strange nurse. When his thirst was 
appeased, he asked— 

“ Who are you ? How came you here ?” 

“ I am your nurse. It is common to place nurses at the bed¬ 
sides of the sick.” 

“ Are you man or woman ?” 

“ That is a question I hardly know how to answer. Some¬ 
times I think myself each ; sometimes neither.” 

“ Did I ever see you before ?” 

“ Often, and quite lately. I sailed with you in your last 
voyage.” 

“ You ! That cannot be. If so, what is your name ?” 

“ Jack Tier.” 

A long pause succeeded this announcement, which induced 
Spike to muse as intently as his condition would allow, though 
the truth did not yet flash on his understanding. At length 
the bewildered man again spoke. 

“Are Jack Tier ?” he said slowly, like one who doubted. 
“Yes—I now see the resemblance, and it was that which puz¬ 
zled me. Are they so rigid in this hospital that you have been 
obliged to put on woman’s clothes in order to lend me a helping 
hand ?” 

“ I am dressed as you see, and for good reasons.” 

“ But Jack Tier run, like that rascal Mulford—ay, I remem¬ 
ber now ; you were in the boat when I overhauled you all on 
the reef.” 

“ Very true; I was in the boat. But I never run, Stephen 
Spike. It was you who abandoned me, on the islet in the Gulf, 
and that makes the second time in your life that you left me 
ashore, when it was your duty to carry me to sea.” 

“ The first time I was in a hurry, and could not wait for you; 
this last time you took sides with the women. But for your 
interference, I should have got Rose, and married her, and all 
would now have been well with me.” 

21 


490 


JACK TIER. 


This was an awkward announcement for a man to make to 
his legal wife. But after all Jack had endured, and all Jack 
had seen, during the late voyage, she was not to Be overcome 
by this avowal. Her self-command extended so far as to pre¬ 
vent any open manifestation of emotion, however much her 
feelings were excited. 

“ I took sides with the women, because I am a woman my¬ 
self,” she answered, speaking at length with decision, as if de¬ 
termined to bring matters to a head at once. “ It is natural 
for us all to take sides with our kind.” 

“ You a woman. Jack! That is very remarkable. Since when 
have you hailed for a woman ? You have shipped with me 
twice, and each time as a man—though I’ve never thought 
you able to do seaman’s duty.” 

“ Nevertheless, I am what you see; a woman born and edi- 
cated; one that never had on man’s dress until I knew you. 
You supposed me to be a man, when I came off to you in the 
skiff to the eastward of Biker’s Island, but I was then what you 
now see.” 

“ I begin to understand matters,” rejoined the invalid, mu¬ 
singly. “ Ay, ay, it opens on me; and I now see how it was 
you made such fair weather with Madam Budd and pretty, 
pretty Rose. Rose is pretty. Jack; you must admit that^ 
though you be a woman.” 

“ Rose is pretty—I do admit it; and what is better. Rose is 
good'' It required a heavy draft on Jack’s justice and magna¬ 
nimity, however, to make this concession. 

“ And you told Rose and Madam Budd about your sex; and 
that was the reason they took to you so on the v’y’ge ?” 

“ I told them who I was, and why I went abroad as a man. 
They know my whole story.” 

“ Did Rose approve of your sailing under false colors. Jack ?” 

“You must ask that of Rose herself. My story made her 
my friend; but she never said any thing for or against my dis¬ 
guise.” 


JACK TIER. 


491 


“ It was no great disguise, a’ter all, Jack. Now you’re fitted 
out in your own clothes, you’ve a sort of half-rigged look; one 
would be as likely to set you down for a man under jury-canvas, 
as for a woman.” 

Jack made no answer to this, but she sighed very heavily. 
As for Spike himself, he was silent for some little time, not 
only from exhaustion, but because he suffered pain from his 
wound. The needle was diligently but awkwardly plied in this 
pause. 

Spike’s ideas were still a little confused; but a silence and 
rest of a quarter of an hour cleared them materially. At the 
end of that time he again asked for water. When he had 
drunk, and Jack was once more seated, with his side-face to¬ 
wards him, at work with the needle, the captain gazed long and 
intently at this strange woman. It happened that the profile 
of Jack preserved more of the resemblance to her former self, 
than the full face ; and it was this resemblance that now at¬ 
tracted Spike’s attention, though not the smallest suspicion of 
the truth yet gleamed upon him. He saw something that was 
familiar, though he could not even tell what that something 
was, much less to what or whom it bore any resemblance. At 
length he spoke. 

“ I was told that Jack Tier was dead,” he said, “ that he took 
the fever, and was in his grave within eight-and-forty hours 
after we sailed. That was what they told me of Am.” 

“ And what did they tell you of your own wife, Stephen Spike 
—she that you left ashore at the time Jack was left?” 

“ They said she did not die for three years later. I heard of 
het death at New Ovleens^ three years later.” 

And how could you leave her ashore—she, your true and 
lawful wife ?” 

“ It was a bad thing,” answered Spike, who, like all other 
mortals, regarded his own past career, now that he stood on the 
edge of the grave, very differently from what he had regarded 
It in the hour of his health and strength. “ Yes, it was a very 


492 


JACK TIER. 


bad thing; and I wish it was ondone. But it is too late now. 
She died of the fever, too—that’s some comfort; had she died 
of a broken heart, I could not have forgiven myself. Molly was 
not without her faults—great faults, I considered them ; but, on 
the whole, Molly was a good creatur’.” 

“ You liked her, then, Stephen Spike ?” 

“ I can truly say that when I married Molly, and old Cap¬ 
tain Swash put his da’ghter’s hand into mine, that the woman 
wasn’t living who was better in my judgment, or handsomer in 
my eyes.” 

“ Ay, ay—when you married her; but how was it a’terwards ? 
—when you was tired of her, and saw another that was fairer 
in your eyes ?” 

“ I desarted her ; and God has punished me for the sin ! Do 
you know. Jack, that luck has never been with me since that 
day. Often and often have I bethought me of it; and sartain 
as you sit there, no great luck has ever been with me, or my 
craft, since I went off, leaving my wife ashore. What was 
made in one v’y’ge, was lost in the next. Up and down, up 
and down the whole time, for so many, many long years, that 
gray hairs set in, and old age was beginning to get close aboard 
—and I as poor as ever. It has been rub and go with me ever 
since; and I have had as much as I could do to keep the brig in 
motion, as the only means that was left to make the two ends meet.” 

“ And did not all this make you think of your poor wife— 
she whom you had so wronged ?” 

“ I thought of little else, until I heard of her death at New 
and then I gave it up as useless. Could I have fallen 
in with Molly at any time a’ter the first six months of my de- 
sartion, she and I would have come together again, and every 
thing would have been forgotten. I knowed her very nature, 
which was all forgiveness to me at the bottom, though seemingly 
so spiteful and hard.” 

“ Yet you wanted to have this Rose Budd, who is only too 
young, and handsome, and good for you.” 


JACK TIER. 


493 


“ I was tired of being a widower, Jack; and Rose is wonderful 
pretty. She has money, too, and might make the evening of 
my days comfortable. The brig was old, as you must know, 
and has long been off of all the Insurance Offices’ books ; and 
she couldn’t hold together much longer. But for this sloop-of- 
war, I should have put her off on the Mexicans; and they would 
have lost her to our people in a month.” 

“ And was it an honest thing to sell an old and worn-out craft 
to any one, Stephen Spike ?” 

Spike had a conscience that had become hard as iron by 
means of trade. He who traffics much, most especially if his 
dealings be on so small a scale as to render constant investiga¬ 
tions of the minor qualities of things necessary, must be a very 
fortunate man, if he preserve his conscience in any better con¬ 
dition. When Jack made this allusion, therefore, the dying 
man—for death was much nearer to Spike that even he sup¬ 
posed, though he no longer hoped for his own recovery—when 
Jack made this allusion, then, the dying man was a good deal 
at a loss to comprehend it. He saw no particular harm in mak¬ 
ing the best bargain he could ; nor was it easy for him to un¬ 
derstand why he might not dispose of any thing he possessed 
for the highest price that was to be had. Still he answered in 
an apologetic sort of way. 

“ The brig was old, I acknowledge,” he said, “ but she was 
strong, and might have run a long time. I only spoke of her 
capture as a thing likely to take place soon, if the Mexicans 
got her; so that her qualities were of no great account, un¬ 
less it might be her speed—and that you know was excellent. 
Jack.” 

“ And you regret that brig, Stephen Spike, lying as you do 
on your death-bed, more than any thing else.” 

“Not as much as I do pretty Rose Budd, Jack; Rosy is so 
delightful to look at!” 

The muscles of Jack’s face twisted a little, and she looked 
deeply mortified; for, to own the truth, she hoped that the 


494 


JACK TIER. 


conversation had so far turned her delinquent husband’s 
thoughts to the past, as to have revived in him some of his 
former interest in herself. It is true, he still believed her 
dead; but this was a circumstance Jack overlooked—so hard is 
it to hear the praises of a rival, and be just. She felt the ne¬ 
cessity of being more explicit, and determined at once to come 
to the point. 

“ Stephen Spike,” she said, steadily, drawing near to the bed¬ 
side, “ you should be told the truth, when you are heard thus 
extolling the good looks of Rose Budd, with less than eight- 
and-twenty hours of life remaining. Mary Swash did not die, 
as you have supposed, three years a’ter you desarted her, but is 
living at this moment. Had you read the letter I gave you in 
the boat, just before you made me jump into the sea, that would 
have told you where she is to be found.” 

Spike stared at the speaker intently; and when her cracked 
voice ceased, his look was that of a man who was terrified as 
well as bewildered. This did not arise still from any gloamings 
of the real state of the case, but from the soreness with which 
his conscience pricked him, when he heard that his much- 
wronged wife was alive. He fancied, with a vivid and rapid 
glance at the probabilities, all that a woman abandoned would 
be likely to endure in the course of so many long and suffer¬ 
ing years. 

“Are you sure of what you say. Jack? You Avouldn’t take 
advantage of my situation to tell me an untruth ?” 

“ As certain of it as of my own existence. I have seen her 
quite lately—talked with her of you —in short, she is now at 
Key West, knows your state, and has a wife’s feelin’s to come 
to your bedside.” 

Notwithstanding all this, and the many gleamings he had 
had of the facts during their late intercourse on board the brig, 
Spike did not guess at the truth. He appeared astounded, and 
his terror seemed to increase. 

“I have another thing to tell you,” continued Jack, pausing 


JACK TIER. 


495 


but a momeut to collect lier own thoughts. “ Jack Tier—the 
real Jack Tier—he who sailed with you of old, and whom you 
left ashore at the same time you desarted your wife, did die of 
the fever, as you was told, in eight-and-forty hours a’ter the 
brig went to sea.” 

“ Then who, in the name of Heaven, are you ? How came 
you to hail by another’s name as well as by another sex ?” 

“ What could a woman do, whose husband had desarted her 
in a strange land ?” 

“ That is remarkable ! So yo^^’ve been married ? I should 
not have thought that possible; and your husband desarted 
you, too. Well, such things do happen.” 

Jack now felt a severe pang. She could not but see that her 
ungainly—we had almost said her unearthly appearance—pre¬ 
vented the captain from even yet suspecting the truth; and the 
meaning of his language was not easily to be mistaken. That 
any one should have married her^ seemed to her husband as 
improbable as it was probable he would run away from her as 
soon as it was in his power after the ceremony. 

“ Stephen Spike,” resumed Jack, solemnly, “ / am Mary 
Swash —I am your wife !” 

Spike started in his bed ; then he buried his face in the cover¬ 
let—and he actually groaned. In bitterness of spirit the wo¬ 
man turned away and wept. Her feelings had been blunted by 
misfortune and the collisions of a selfish \vorld; but enough of 
former self remained to make this the hardest of all the blows 
she had ever received. Her husband, dying as he was, as he 
must and did know himself to be, shrunk from one of her ap¬ 
pearance, unsexed as she had become by habits, and changed 
by years and suffering. 


496 


JACK TIER, 


■ CHAPTER XVII. 

“ The trusting heart’s repose, the paradise 
Of honae, with all its loves, doth fate allow 
The crown of glory unto woman’s brow.” 

Mrs. Hemans. 

It has again become necessary to advance the time; and we 
shall take the occasion thus offered to make a few explanations 
touching certain events which have been passed over without 
notice. 

The reason why Captain Mull did not chase the yawl of the 
brig in the Pougkeepsie herself, was the necessity of waiting for 
his own boats that were endeavoring to regain the sloop-of- 
war. It would not have done to abandon them, inasmuch as 
the men were so much exhausted by the pull to windward, that 
when they reached the vessel all were relieved from duty for 
the rest of the day. As soon, however, as the other boats were 
hoisted in, or run up, the ship filled away, stood out of the pas¬ 
sage and ran down to join the cutter of Wallace, which was 
endeavoring to keep its position, as much as possible, by mak¬ 
ing short tacks under close-reefed luggs. 

Spike had been received on board the sloop-of-war, sent into 
her sick bay, and put under the care of the surgeon and his 
assistants. From the first, these gentlemen pronounced the 
hurt mortal. The wounded man was insensible most of the 
time, until the ship had beat up and gone into Key West, 
where he was transferred to the regular hospital, as has already 
been mentioned. 

The wreckers went out the moment the news of the calamity 


JACK TIER. 


497 


of the Swash reached their ears. Some went in quest of the 
doubloons of the schooner, and others to pick up any thing 
valuable that might be discovered in the neighborhood of the 
stranded brig. It may be mentioned here, that not much was 
ever obtained from the brigantine, with the exception of a few 
spars, the sails, and a little rigging; but, in the end, the 
schooner was raised, by means of the chain Spike had placed 
around her, the cabin was ransacked, and the doubloons were 
recovered. As there was no one to claim the money, it was 
quietly divided among the conscientious citizens present at its 
revisiting “ the glimpses of the moon,” making gold plenty. 

The doubloons in the yawl would have been lost but for the 
sagacity of Mulford. He too well knew the character of Spike 
to believe he would quit the brig without taking the doubloons 
with him. Acquainted with the boat, he examined the little 
locker in the stern-sheets, and found the two bags, one of which 
was probably the lawful property of Captain Spike, while the 
other, in truth, belonged to the Mexican government. The last 
contained the most gold, but the first amounted to a sum that 
our young mate knew to be very considerable. Rose had made 
him acquainted with the sex of Jack Tier since their own mar¬ 
riage ; and he at once saw that the claims of this uncouth wife, 
who was so soon to be a widow, to the gold in question, might 
prove to be as good in law, as they unquestionably were in 
morals. On representing the facts of the case to Captain Mull 
and the legal functionaries at Key West, it was determined to 
relinquish this money to the heirs of Spike, as, indeed, they 
must have done under process, there being no other claimant. 
These doubloons, however, did not amount to the full price of 
the flour and powder that composed the cargo of the Swash. 
The cargo had been purchased with Mexican funds; and all 
that Spike or his heirs could claim, was the high freight for 
which he had undertaken the delicate office of transporting 
those forbidden articles, contraband of war, to the Dry Tor- 
tugas. 


498 


JACK TIER. 


Mulford by this time was high in the confidence and esteem 
of all on board the Poughkeepsie. He. had frankly explained 
his whole connection with Spike, not even attempting to con¬ 
ceal the reluctance he had felt to betray the brig after he had 
fully ascertained the fact of his commander’s treason. The 
manly gentlemen with whom he was now brought in contact 
entered into his feelings, and admitted that it was an office no 
one could desire, to turn against the craft in which he sailed. 
It is true, they could not and would not be traitors, but Mul¬ 
ford had stopped far short of this; and the distinction between 
such a character and that of an informer was wide enough to 
satisfy all their scruples. 

Then Rose had the greatest success with the gentlemen of 
the Poughkeepsie. Her youth, beauty, and modesty, told 
largely in her favor; and the simple, womanly affection she 
unconsciously betrayed in behalf of Harry, touched the heart 
of every observer. When the intelligence of her aunt’s fate 
reached her, the sorrow she manifested was so profound and 
natural, that every one sympathized with her grief. Nor 
would she be satisfied unless Mulford would consent to go in 
search of the bodies. The latter knew the hopelessness of such 
an excursion, but he could not refuse to comply. He was ab¬ 
sent on that melancholy duty, therefore, at the moment of the 
scene related in our last chapter, and did not return until after 
that which we are now about to lay before the reader. Mrs. 
Budd, Biddy, and all of those who perished after the yawl got 
clear of the reef, were drowned in deep water, and no more 
was ever seen of any of them; or, if wreckers did pass them, 
they did not stop to bury the dead. It was different, however, 
with those, who were first sacrificed to Spike’s selfishness. They 
were drowned on the reef, and Harry did actually recover the 
bodies of the Senor Montefalderon, and of Josh, the steward. 
They had washed upon a rock that is bare at low water. He 
took them both to the Dry Tortugas, and had them interred 
along with the other dead at that place. Don Juan was placed 


JACK TIER. 


499 


side by side with his unfortunate countryman, the master of his 
equally unfortunate schooner. 

While Harry was absent and thus employed, Rose wept 
much and prayed more. She would have felt herself almost 
alone in the world, but for the youth to whom she had so re¬ 
cently, less than a week before, plighted her faith in wedlock. 
That new tie, it is true, was of sufficient importance to counter¬ 
act many of the ordinary feelings of her situation; and she now 
turned to it as the one which absorbed most of the future duties 
of her life. Still she missed the kindness, the solicitude, even 
the weaknesses of her aunt; and the terrible manner in which 
Mrs. Budd had perished, made her shudder with horror when¬ 
ever she thought of it. Poor Biddy, too, came in for her share 
of the regrets. This faithful creature who had been in the 
relict’s service ever since Rose’s infancy, had become endeared 
to her, in spite of her uncouth manners and confused ideas, by 
the warmth of her heart, and the singular truth of her feelings. 
Biddy, of all her family, had come to America, leaving behind 
her not only brothers and sisters, but parents living. Each year 
did she remit to the last a moiety of her earnings, and many a 
half-dollar that had come from Rose’s pretty little hand, had 
been converted into gold, and forwarded on the same pious 
errand to the green island of her nativity. Ireland, unhappy 
country! at this moment what are not the dire necessities of 
thy poor! Here, from the midst of abundance, in a land that 
God has blessed in its productions far beyond the limits of 
human wants, a land in which famine was never known, do we 
at this moment hear thy groans, and listen to tales of suffering 
that to us seem almost incredible. In the midst of these chill¬ 
ing narratives, our eyes fall on an appeal to the English nation, 
that appears in what it is the fashion of some to term the first 
journal of Europe (1) in behalf of thy suffering people. A 
worthy appeal to the charity of England seldom fails; but it 
seems to us that one sentiment of this might have been altered, 
if not spared. The English are asked to be forgetful of the 


500 


JACK TIER. 


past,” and to come forward to the relief of their suffering fellow- 
subjects. We should have written “ mindful of the past,” in 
its stead. We say this in charity, as well as in truth. We 
come of English blood, and if we claim to share in all the 
ancient renown of that warlike and enlightened people, we are 
equally bound to share in the reproaches that original mis- 
government has inflicted on thee. In this latter sense, then, 
thou hast a right to our sympathies, and they are not withheld. 

As has been already said, we now advance the time eight- 
and-forty hours, and again transfer the scene to that room in 
the hospital which was occupied by Spike. The approaches of 
death, during the interval just named, had been slow but cer¬ 
tain. The surgeons had announced that the wounded man 
could not possibly survive the coming night; and he himself 
had been made sensible that his end was near. It is scarcely 
necessary to add that Stephen Spike, conscious of his vigor 
and strength, in command of his brig, and bent on the pursuits 
of worldly gains, or of personal gratification, was a very differ¬ 
ent person from him who now lay stretched on his pallet in the 
hospital of Key West, a dying man. By the side of his bed 
still sat his strange nurse, less peculiar in appearance, however, 
than when last seen by the reader. 

Rose Budd had been ministering to the ungainly externals of 
Jack Tier. She now wore a cap, thus concealing the short, 
gray bristles of hair, and lending to her countenance a little of 
that softness which is a requisite of female character. Some 
attention had also been paid to the rest of her attire; and Jack 
was, altogether, less repulsive in her exterior than when, un¬ 
aided, she had attempted to resume the proper garb of her sex. 
Use and association, too, had contributed a little to revive her 
woman’s nature, if we may so express it, and she had begun, in 
particular, to feel the sort of interest in her patient which we 
all come in time to entertain towards any objects of our espe¬ 
cial care. We do not mean that Jack had absolutely ever 
ceased to love her husband; strange as it may seem, such had 


JACK TIER. 


501 


not literally been the case; on the contrary, her interest in him 
and in his welfare had never ceased, even while she saw his 
vices and detested his crimes; but all we wish to say here is, 
that she was getting, in addition to the long-enduring feelings 
of a wife, some of the interest of a nurse. 

During the whole time which had elapsed between Jack’s 
revealing her true character, and the moment of which we are 
now writing. Spike had not once spoken to his wife. Often 
had she caught his eyes intently riveted on her, when he would 
turn them away, as she feared, in distaste; and once or twice 
he groaned deeply, more like a man who suffered mental than 
bodily pain. Still the patient'did not speak once in all the 
time mentioned. We should be representing poor Jack as pos¬ 
sessing more philosophy, or less feeling, than the truth would 
warrant, were we to say that she was not hurt at this conduct 
in her husband. On the contrary, she felt it deeply ; and more 
than once it had so far subdued her pride, as to cause her bit¬ 
terly to weep. This shedding of tears, however, was of service 
to Jack in one sense, for it had the effect of renewing old im¬ 
pressions, and in a certain way, of reviving the nature of her 
sex within hei’—a nature which had been sadly weakened by 
her past life. 

But the hour had at length come when this long and pain¬ 
ful silence was to be broken. Jack and Rose were alone with 
the patient, when the last again spoke to his wife. 

“ Molly—poor Molly!” said the dying man, his voice con¬ 
tinuing full and deep to the last, “ what a sad time you must 
have had of it after I did you that wrong!” 

“ It is hard upon a woman, Stephen, to turn her out, help¬ 
less, on a cold and selfish world,” answered Jack, simply, much 
too honest to affect a reserve she did not feel. 

“ It was hard, indeed ; may God forgive me for it, as I hope 
ye do, Molly.” 

No answer was made to this appeal; and the invalid looked 
anxiously at his wife. The last sat at her work, which had now 


502 


JACK TIER. 


got to be less awkward to ber, with her eyes bent on her needle, 
—her countenance rigid, and, so far as the eye could discern, 
her feelings unmoved. 

“Your husband speaks to you, Jack Tier,” said Rose, point¬ 
edly. 

“ May yours never have occasion to speak to you. Rose Budd, 
in the same way,” was the solemn answer. “ I do not flatter 
myself that I ever was as comely as you, or that yonder poor 
dying wretch was a Harry Mulford in his youth; but we were 
young and happy, and respected once, and loved each other, 
yet you see what it’s all come to!” 

Rose was silenced, though she had too much tenderness in 
behalf of her own youthful and manly bridegroom to dread a 
fate similar to that which had overtaken poor Jack. Spike 
now seemed disposed to say something, and she went to the 
side of his bed, followed by her companion, who kept a little in 
the background, as if unwilling to let the emotion she really 
felt be seen, and, perhaps, conscious that her ungainly appear¬ 
ance did not aid her in recovering the lost affections of her 
husband. 

“ I have been a very wicked man, I fear,” said Spike, earnestly. 

“ There are none without sin,” answered Rose. “ Place your 
reliance on the mediation of the Son of God, and sins even far 
deeper than yours may be pardoned.” 

The captain stared at the beautiful speaker, but self-indul¬ 
gence, the incessant pursuit of worldly and selfish objects for 
forty years, and the habits of a life into which the thought of 
God and the dread hereafter never entered, had encased his 
spiritual being in a sort of brazen armor, through which no 
ordinary blow of conscience could penetrate. Still he had fear¬ 
ful glimpses of recent events, and his soul, hanging as it was 
over the abyss of eternity, was troubled. 

“ What has become of your aunt ?” half whispered Spike— 
“ my old captain’s widow. She ought to be here; and Don 
Wan Montezuma—where is he ?” 


JACK TIER. 


503 


Rose turned aside to conceal her tears—but no one answered 
the questions of the dying man. Then a gleaming of childhood 
shot into the recollection of Spike, and, clasping his hands, he 
tried to pray. But, like others who have lived without any 
communication with their Creator through long lives of apathy 
to his existence and laws, thinking only of the present time, 
and daily, hourly sacrificing principles and duty to the narrow 
interests of the moment, he now found how hard it is to renew 
communications with a Being who has been so long neglected. 
The fault lay in himself, however, for a gracious ear was open, 
even over the death-bed of Stephen Spike, could that rude spirit 
only bring itself, to ask for mercy in earnestness and truth. As 
his companions saw his struggles, they left him for a few min¬ 
utes to his own thoughts. 

“ Molly,” Spike at length uttered, in a faint tone, the voice of 
one conscious of being very near his end, “ I hope you will for¬ 
give me, Molly. I know you must have a hard, hard time 
of it.” 

“ It is hard for a woman to unsex herself, Stephen; to throw 
off her very natur’, as it might be, and to turn man.” 

“It has changed you sadly—even your speech is altered. 
Once your voice was soft and womanish—more like that of 
Rose Budd’s than it is now.” 

“ I speak as them speak among whom I’ve been forced to 
live. The forecastle and steward’s pantry, Stephen Spike, are 
poor schools to send women to I’arn language in.” 

“ Try and forget it all, poor Molly! Say to me, so that I 
can hear you, ‘ I forget and forgive, Stephen.’ I am afraid God 
will not pardon my sins, which begin to seem dreadful to me, 
if my own wife refuse to forget and forgive, on my dying bed.” 

Jack was much mollified by this appeal. Her interest in her 
offending husband had never been entirely extinguished. She 
had remembered him, and often with woman’s kindness, in all 
her wanderings and sufferings, as the preceding parts of our 
narrative must show; and though resentment had been mingled 


504 


JACK TIER. 


with the grief and mortification she felt at finding how much 
lie still submitted to Rose’s superior charms, in a breast as really 
generous and humane as that of Jack Tier’s, such a feeling was 
not likely to endure in the midst of a scene like that she was 
now called to witness. The muscles of her countenance twitched, 
the hard-looking, tanned face began to lose its sternness, and 
every way she appeared like one profoundly disturbed. 

“ Turn to Him whose goodness and marcy may sarve you, 
Stephen,” she said, in a milder and more feminine tone than 
she had used now for years, making her more like herself than 
either her husband or Rose had seen her since the commence¬ 
ment of the late voyage; “ my sayin’ that I forget and forgive 
cannot help a man on his death-bed.” 

“ It will settle my mind, Molly, and leave me freer to turn 
my thoughts to God.” 

Jack was much aftected, more by the countenance and man¬ 
ner of the sufferer, perhaps, than by his words. She drew 
nearer to the side of her husband’s pallet, knelt, took his hands, 
and said solemnly— 

“ Stephen Spike, from the bottom of my heart, I do forgive 
you; and I shall pray to God that he will pardon your sins as 
freely and more marcifully than I now pardon all, and try to 
forget all that you have done to me.” 

Spike clasped his hands, and again he tried to pray; but the 
habits of a whole life are not to be throw n off at wdll; and he 
who endeavors to regain, in his extremity, the moments that 
have been lost, will find, in bitter reality, that he has been 
heaping mountains on his own soul, by the mere practice of 
sin, which were never laid there by the original fall of his race. 
Jack, however, had disburdened her spirit of a load that 
had long oppressed it, and, burying her face in the rug, she 
w^ept. 

“ I wish, Molly,” said the dying man, several minutes later— 
“I wish I had never seen the brig. Until I got that craft, no 
thought of wronging human being ever crossed my mind.” 


JACK TIER. 


505 


“ It was the Father of Lies that tempts all to do evil, Stephen, 
and not the brig, which caused the sins.” 

“ I wish I could live a year longer —only one year; that is 
not much to ask for a man who is not yet sixty.” 

“ It is hopeless, poor Stephen. The surgeons say you cannot 
live one day.” 

Spike groaned—for the past, blended fearfully with the future, 
gleamed on his conscience with a brightness that appalled him. 
And what is that future, which is to make us happy or miser¬ 
able through an endless vista of time ? Is it not composed of 
an existence, in which conscience, released from the delusions 
and weaknesses of the body, sees all in its true colors, appreciates 
all, and punishes all ? Such an existence would make every 
man the keeper of the record of his own transgressions, even to 
the most minute exactness. It would of itself mete out perfect 
justice, since the sia would be seen amid its accompanying 
facts, every aggravating or extenuating circumstance. Each 
man would be strictly punished according to his talents. As 
no one is without sin, it makes the necessity of an atonement 
indispensable, and, in its most rigid interpretation, it exhibits 
the truth of the scheme of salvation in the clearest colors. The 
soul, or conscience, that can admit the necessary degree of faith 
in that atonement, and in admitting,its efficacy, throws the 
burden of its own transgressions away, and remains forever in 
the condition of its original existence, pure, and consequently 
happy. 

We do not presume to lay down a creed on this mighty and 
mysterious matter, in which all have so deep an interest, and 
concerning which so very small a portion of the human race 
think much, or think with any clearness when it does become 
the subject of their passing thoughts at all. We too well know 
our own ignorance to venture on dogmas which it has prob¬ 
ably been intended that the mind of man should not yet grapple 
with and comprehend. To return to our subject. 

Stephen Spike was now made to feel the incubus-load, which 
22 


50G 


JACK TIER. 


perseverance in sin heaps on the breast of the reckless offender. 
What was the most grievous of all, his power to shake off this 
dead weight was diminished in precisely the same proportion as 
the burden was increased, the moral force of every man lessen¬ 
ing in a very just ratio to the magnitude of his delinquencies. 
Bitterly did this deep offender struggle with his conscience, and 
little did his half-unsexed wife know how to console or aid him 
Jack had been superficially instructed in the dogmas of her 
faith, in childhood and youth, as most persons are instructed in 
what are termed Christian communities—had been made -to 
learn the Catechism, the Lord’s Prayer, and the Creed—and 
had been left to set up for herself on this small capital, in the 
great concern of human existence, on her marriage and en¬ 
trance on the active business of life. When the manner in which 
she had passed the last twenty years is remembered, no one can 
be surprised to learn that Jack was of ]ittle assistance to her 
husband in his extremity. Rose made an effort to administer 
hope and consolation, but the terrible nature of the struggle she 
witnessed, induced her to send for the chaplain of the Pough¬ 
keepsie. This divine prayed with the dying man; but even he, 
in the last moments of the sufferer, was little more than a pas¬ 
sive but shocked witness of remorse, suspended over the abyss 
of eternity in hopeless dread. We shall not enter into the de¬ 
tails of the revolting scene, but simply add that curses, blasphe¬ 
my, tremulous cries for mercy, agonized entreaties to be ad¬ 
vised, and sullen defiance, were all strangely and fearfully 
blended. In the midst of one of these revolting paroxysms. 
Spike breathed his last. A few hours later, his body was in¬ 
terred in the sands of the shore. It may be well to say in this 
place, that the hurricane of 1846, which is known to have oc¬ 
curred only a few months later, swept off the frail covering, and 
that the body was washed away to leave its bones among the 
wrecks and relics of the Florida Reef. 

Mulford did not return from his fruitless expedition in quest 
of the remains of Mrs. Budd, until after the death and interment 


JACK TIER. 


507 


of Spike. As nothing remained to be done at Key West, he 
and Rose, accompanied by Jack*Tier, took passage for Charles¬ 
ton in the first convenient vessel that ofiered. Two days before 
they sailed, the Poughkeepsie went out to cruise in the Gulf, 
agreeably to her general orders. The evening previously Cap¬ 
tain Mull, Wallace, and the chaplain, passed with the bride¬ 
groom and bride, when the matter of the doubloons found in 
the boat was discussed. It was agreed that Jack Tier should 
have them; and into her hands the bag was now placed. On 
this occasion, to oblige the officers. Jack went into a narrative 
of all she had seen and suffered, from the moment when aban¬ 
doned by her late husband down to that when she found him 
again. It was a strange account, and one filled with surprising 
adventures. In most of the vessels in which she had served. 
Jack had acted in the steward’s department, though she had 
frequently done duty as a foremast hand. In strength and 
skill she admitted that she had often failed; but in courage, 
never. Having been given reason to think her husband was 
reduced to serving in a vessel of war, she had shipped on board 
a frigate bound to the Mediterranean, and had actually made a 
whole cruise as a ward-room boy on that station. While thus 
employed, she had met with two of the gentlemen present; 
Captain Mull and Mr. Wallace. The former was then first- 
lieutenant of the frigate, and the latter a past-midshipman; and 
in these capacities both had been well known to her. As the 
name she then bore was the same as that under which she now 
“hailed,” these officers were soon made to recollect her, though 
Jack was no longer the light, trim-built lad he had then ap¬ 
peared to be. Neither of the gentlemen named had made the 
whole cruise in the ship, but each had been promoted and 
transferred to another craft, after being Jack’s shipmate rather 
more than a year. This information greatly facilitated thp 
affair of the doubloons. 

From Charleston the travellers came north by railroad. 
Harry made several stops by the way, in order to divert the 


508 


JACK TIER. 


thoughts of liis beautiful young bride from dwelling too much 
on the fate of her aunt. He knew that home would revive all 
these recollections painfully, and wished to put off the hour of 
their return, until time had a little weakened Rose’s regrets. 
For this reason he passed a whole week in Washington, though 
it was a season of the year that the place is not in much re¬ 
quest. Still, Washington is scarce a town, at any season. It 
is much the fashion to deride the American capital, and to treat 
it as a place of very humble performance with very sounding 
pretensions. Certainly, Washington has very few of the pecu¬ 
liarities of a great European capital; but few as these are, they 
are more than belong to any other place in this country. We 
now allude to the distinctive characteristics of a capital, and not 
to a mere concentration of houses and shops within a given space. 
In this last respect, Washington is much behind fifty other 
American towns, even while it is the only place in the whole 
Republic which possesses specimens of architecture, on a scale 
approaching that of the higher classes of the edifices of the old 
world. It is totally deficient in churches, and theatres, and 
markets; or those it does possess are, in an architectural sense, 
not at all above the level of village or country-town pretensions, 
but one or two of its national edifices do approach the mag¬ 
nificence and grandeur of the old world. The new Treasury 
Buildings are unquestionably, on the score of size, embellish¬ 
ments, and finish, the American edifice that comes nearest to 
first-class architecture on the other side of the Atlantic. The 
Capitol comes next, though it can scarce be ranked, relatively, 
as high. As for the White House, it is every way suflScient for 
its purposes and the institutions; and now that its grounds are 
finished, and the shrubbery and trees begin to tell, one sees about 
it something that is not unworthy of its high uses and origin. 
Those grounds which so long lay a reproach to the national 
taste and liberality, are now fast becoming beautiful, are already 
exceedingly pretty, and give to a structure that is destined to 
become historical, having already associated with it the names 


JACK TIER. 


509 


of Jefferson, Madison, Jackson, and Quincy Adams, together 
with the ci polloi of the later Presidents, an entourage that is 
suitable to its past recollections and its present purposes. They 
are not quite on a level with the parks of London, it is true, or 
even with the Tuileries, or Luxembourg, or the Boboli, or the 
Villa Reale, or fifty more grounds and gardens, of a similar na¬ 
ture, that might be mentioned; but seen in the spring and 
early summer, they adorn the building they surround, and lend 
to the whole neighborhood a character of high civilization, that 
no other place in America can show, in precisely the same form 
or to the same extent. 

This much have we said on the subject of the White House 
and its precincts, because we took occasion, in a former work, 
to berate the narrow-minded parsimony which left the grounds 
of the White House in a condition that was discreditable to 
the republic. How far our philippic may have hastened the 
improvements which have been made, is more than we shall 
pretend to say ; but having made the former strictures, we are 
happy to have an occasion to say (though nearly twenty years 
have intervened between the expressions of the two opinions) 
that they are no longer merited. 

And here we will add another word, and that on a subject 
that is not sufiiciently pressed on the attention of a people who, 
by position, are unavoidably provincial. We invite those whose 
gorges rise at any stricture on any thing American, and who 
fancy it is enough to belong to the great republic to be great 
in itself, to place themselves in front of the State Department, 
as it now stands, and to examine its dimensions, material, and 
form with critical eyes, then to look along the adjacent Treasury 
Buildings, to fancy them completed, by a junction with new 
edifices of a similar construction, to contain the Department 
of State; next to fancy similar works completed for the two 
opposite departments; after which, to compare the past and 
present with the future as thus finished, and remember how 
recent has been the partial improvement which even now exists. 


510 


JACK TIER. 


If this examination and comparison do not show, directly to the 
sense of sight, how much there was and is to criticise, as put 
in contrast with other countries, we shall give up the individuals 
in question, as too deeply dyed in the provincial wool ever to 
be whitened. The present Trinity Church, New York, certainly 
not more than a third class European church, if as much, com¬ 
pared with its village-like predecessor, may supply a practical 
homily of the same degree of usefulness. There may be those 
among us, however, who fancy it patriotism to maintain that 
the old Treasury Buildings Avere quite equal to the new; and 
of these intense Americans we cry their mercy! 

Rose felt keenly on reaching her late aunt’s very neat dwell¬ 
ing in Fourteenth-street, New York. But the manly tenderness 
of Mulford Avas a great support to her, and a little time brought 
her to think of that Aveak-minded, but Avell-meaning and affec¬ 
tionate relative, with gentle regret, rather than Avith grief. 
Among the connections of her young husband, she found several 
females of a class in life certainly equal to her own, and some- 
Avhat superior to the latter in education and habits. As for 
Harry, he A^ery gladly passed the season AAuth his beautiful 
bride, though a fine ship Avas laid doAvn for him, by means of 
Rose’s fortune, noAv much increased by her aunt’s death, and 
he was absent in Europe Avhen his son Avas born; an event that 
occurred only two months since. 

The Swash, and the shipment of gunpowder, Avere thought 
of no more in the good toAvn of Manhattan. This great em¬ 
porium—AA^e beg pardon, this great commercial emporium—has 
a trick of forgetting, condensing all interests into those of the 
present moment. It is much addicted to believing that Avhich 
never had an existence, and of overlooking that AA^hich is occur¬ 
ring directly under its nose. So marked is this tendency to 
forgetfulness, Ave should not be surprised to hear some of the 
ISlanhattanese pretend that our legend is nothing but a fiction, 
and deny the existence of the Molly, Captain Spike, and even of 
Biddy Noon. But Ave knoAv them too Avell to mind Avhat they 


JACK TIER. 


511 


say, and shall go on and finish onr narrative in our own way, just 
as if there were no such raven-throated commentators at all. 

Jack Tier, still known by that name, fives in the family of 
Captain Mulford. She is fast losing the tan on her face and 
hands, and every day is improving in appearance. She now 
habitually wears her proper attire, and is dropping gradually 
into the feelings and habits of her sex. She never can become 
what she once was, any more than the blackamoor can become 
white,-or the leopard change his spots; but she is no longer 
revolting. She has left off chewing and smoking, having 
found a refuge in snuff. Her hair is permitted to grow, and 
is already turned up with a comb, though constantly concealed 
beneath a cap. The heart of Jack, alone, seems unaltered. 
The strange, tiger-like affection that she bore for Spike, during 
twenty years of abandonment, has disappeared in regrets for 
his end. It is succeeded by a most sincere attachment for 
Rose, in which the little boy, since his appearance on the scene, 
is becoming a large participator. This child Jack is beginning 
to love intensely; and the doubloons, well invested, placing 
her above the feeling of dependence, she is likely to end her 
fife, once so errant and disturbed, in tranquillity and a homelike 
happiness. 


THE END. 



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